Make Straight His Paths
by JackieStarSister
Summary: A canon-compliant short story cycle studying Krolia and Keith's characterization and relationships. Includes headcanons and offscreen moments. Chapters will be rearranged to fit chronology. Rated T for warfare, childbirth, and mentions of risky/harmful/illegal activities.
1. Make Straight His Paths - Introduction

**Epigraph**

A voice of one calling: "In the wilderness prepare the way for the LORD; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. ~ Isaiah 40:3, New International Version

* * *

 **Table of Contents**

"Two Worlds." Krolia crashes on a planet where a Voltron Lion is located, and has to decide whether to trust the native who saves her.

"Strangers Like Me." Krolia gets used to living on Earth and grows closer to her host.

"Son of Man." Krolia and John begin their shared life together and get used to parenthood.

"You'll Be In My Heart." Krolia makes a difficult decision to ensure her family's safety.

"Star Student." Shiro brings Keith and his classmates on a field trip to the Galaxy Garrison.

"Paying It Forward." Keith and Shiro build a friendship over the years, support each other's goals, and take pride in each other's achievements.

"Fellow Failures." The world is shocked by the disappearance of the Kerberos crew, which has a great negative effect on Keith.

"Alone Again." After leaving the Garrison, Keith adjusts to living in the desert, and discovers a mysterious landmark.

"Expecting the Unexpected." Keith prepares for the foretold arrival, and finds an opportunity to take revenge on the Garrison.

"Old Friends and New Teammates." Keith welcomes Shiro home and reluctantly works with other former Garrison students to complete his investigation.

"Reclaiming a Legacy." The team meet some aliens who reveal the magnitude of their mission, and they search for more mechanical lions.

"Brothers in Arms." As the paladins get to know each other, Keith suspects Pidge is hiding something.

"The Only Left." Keith's budding trust in his teammates is tested when Pidge wants to leave the group.

"A Bonding Moment." After Pidge decides to stay with the team, she and Keith spar on the training deck and talk about their experiences at the Galaxy Garrison.


	2. Two Worlds

_Published August 19, 2018_

"Two Worlds"

* * *

Most important of all, pray to God to set your feet in the path of truth. ~ Sirach 37:15

* * *

It had been a long time since Krolia crashed. The last time must have been when she was just learning how to pilot a ship. Since then she had been careful, rarely taking risks, and never acting as reckless as she just had.

With her ship damaged, she could not slow her descent to the planet, but she tried to steer in the direction of the Voltron lion's signal. If she at least landed in the general vicinity, she could then search for it on foot.

The ship's impact on the dry land knocked Krolia out. When she gradually regained consciousness, her entire body was sore, though her legs and feet hurt the most; they were crushed under the metal.

She felt air moving across her face, which meant a few things: her helmet was broken, her ship was open, and this planet's atmosphere was breathable. It was warm and smelled like some kind of dirt.

Krolia opened her eyes and blinked several times, trying to regain focus. That was when she saw that she was not alone. Her first thought was of her pursuer, but the person standing above her, holding two metal sheets as though he had pried them apart, was not Galra. It was a local inhabitant of this planet, a male judging by the shape of his face and body.

They stared at each other. The native looked at her with awe, but not fear, not the way people on other planets looked at Galra. He did not see a monster, an oppressor. More than anything else, he looked as though he could not believe his own eyes. The planet was so remote, their science so far behind that of the Galra, it may have been the first time anyone on it saw an alien visitor.

Krolia found she could move enough to activate a translator. Then she coughed and spoke. "I come in peace." It seemed the most important thing to say. If the locals perceived her as a threat, it would endanger both her and her mission.

The man's eyes widened, hearing the translator repeat her words in his own language.

He stammered some syllables that were incomplete on their own and therefore did not translate. Finally he managed to ask, "Are you hurt?"

Krolia assessed the situation quickly, as she had been trained to do. Her ship was inoperable and probably beyond repair. She was on an unfamiliar planet that had no contact with the Galra Empire or, as far as she knew, any of the remaining free systems. She had no allies on this planet, and she knew nothing about its culture or environment.

If she revealed too much, or trusted the wrong person, things could get very bad for her, or the planet, or the Empire. She had no idea how this planet's people would treat a Galra. On the other hand, involving other people could put them in danger from the Galra Empire.

She might be able to get out of the wreckage on her own, but that might expend whatever energy she had left. She needed all her strength if she was going to both survive on this planet and find the Blue Lion.

Krolia decided there was no point in lying.

She could almost hear Kolivan's disapproving scowl when she answered, "Yes."

"Do you need help?"

"Yes. Can you help me get out?"

He bobbed his head up and down, then answered verbally, "Yeah."

It took a few minutes to free her, careful as they were not to injure her further. It was a clumsy, awkward, and, for Krolia, painful process. The native had an axe and a crowbar, which helped to separate the pieces of metal that trapped Krolia in the wreckage. Once her legs were free, he extended a hand, and she accepted it and let him help her up and out of the ship.

As she got out and stood, she noticed two more things: parts of her ship were on fire; and her wounds hurt much more than she had realized, so much she felt dizzy. A being of a race less strong than the Galra would have been in much worse shape—if not dead, probably in a coma.

She grabbed the nearest safe support she could find, which happened to be her rescuer's shoulder. When she had steadied herself enough to look up again, she saw him looking at her with concern. "Here." He took her hand and made her put her arm behind his head, across his shoulders, so he could support her weight. "You crashed pretty close to my house. We can patch you up there."

"Thank you." Krolia's voice was weak, but her gratitude was quite audible. She grit her teeth against the pain and tried to put her weight on the man as he helped her along.

The dwelling was primitive by Galra standards. It seemed to be made of mostly wood and plaster, with hardly any metal. Inside, the furniture was rustic and sparse, but it included a few chairs. Krolia sank into the first one.

Her host bustled around the room, producing containers and various items which he placed on the table. "I have bandages, first aid supplies. I don't know what you'd use. There's running water if you need to wash anything."

Krolia came over, took a seat at the table because standing would have taken too much effort, and tried to sort through the items. Unable to read the labels, she had to rely on smell and taste to identify the ingredients of the medicines. Her host watched her, and she wondered if he was hovering out of concern for her well-being or fear of what she might do. He _had_ just brought a stranger, an alien, into his home.

He looked away when she started to take off pieces of her armor, checking herself for injuries. She had bruises and was bleeding in multiple spots, but the worst of it seemed to be a sprained ankle and one or two broken ribs. She managed to wash and dress most of her own wounds, but she had to ask for his assistance bandaging her shoulder and part of her back. His hands moved with the care and confidence of someone trained in administering first aid.

"Does that feel alright?" he asked when he was done.

"Yes. Thank you."

With her immediate physical needs taken care of, he finally asked the question he had been holding back since he saw her: "Who are you?"

What could she say? She was a soldier and a spy. In most societies, soldiery was a respectable profession while spying suggested untrustworthiness; but in the Galra Empire being a soldier meant being an agent of destruction, while being a spy for the Blade of Marmora was a virtuous and heroic thing.

When she did not answer, he tried to rephrase the question. "You're an alien, aren't you? I mean, you're not from Earth."

"That's right. I'm not." Krolia paused, thinking through which questions to ask. "Does anyone besides you know I'm here?"

"Don't know for sure. There are scientists who observe the sky. They might've seen your ship enter the atmosphere, but they could've mistaken it for an asteroid or something."

"Have your people ever made contact with aliens?"

"No. At least not that I know of."

"Then it's better that no one knows I'm here." She glanced out the window to where her ship was still burning.

Her host followed her gaze. "Do you plan to fix that ship, or find a new one?"

"I don't have the resources to fix it. Even if I could fix or replace it, I have a mission I need to complete first."

He looked intrigued, but also wary. "What is it?"

"I'm looking for something. Others are looking for it too, and I need to prevent them from finding it."

"Why?"

"It's complicated."

"I get that you don't trust me. I don't have much reason to trust you either."

Krolia bowed her head and briefly closed her eyes. "If you knew all the things my people have done, you'd have many reasons not to." She looked up to see him frowning at her, guarded. "I don't know if you can handle the truth. You'll probably be happier not knowing."

"I can't just forget what I saw and did tonight. And you're pretty much stranded. If you don't want anyone else to know about you, I'm the only one available to help. And if you need or want help, I need to know what it is I'm helping with." He glanced out a window pane at her ship, still burning not far from his house, and then back to her. His eyes were filled with wonder, hunger, and a kind of helplessness. "I have so many questions I want to ask."

Krolia made up her mind. "I'll answer yours if you answer mine."

For the first time, he smiled at her, and it softened his entire face. "That sounds like a deal."

Krolia allowed herself to smile in return. She was still uncertain of the future, but felt glad, for now, to have some company.


	3. Strangers Like Me

_Published September 10, 2018_

"Strangers Like Me"

* * *

And thus were the paths of those on earth made straight, and men learned what was your pleasure, and were saved by Wisdom. ~ Wisdom 9:18, New American Bible

* * *

The learning curve began the morning after Krolia crashed. Since it was nighttime on this side of the planet when she arrived, and she needed to rest her injured body, she and her host had both gone to sleep, he in his bed upstairs and she on a couch on the ground floor. He loaned her some of his own sleeping garments, since they would be more comfortable than her armor.

She woke up to find him moving about the adjoining room, where he had treated her wounds. He noticed her when she sat up. "Mornin'. How are you feeling?"

Krolia moved slowly, turning to set her feet on the floor. She tested her limbs and felt her bandaged shoulders and torso. "Still sore, but not as bad as last night."

He smiled. "Good. Uh, I have food if you're hungry."

Krolia stood and crossed into the other room, where she saw her host had set out a meal—of sorts. He was a little awkward as he gestured to the large assortment of bowls and containers set on the table. "I don't know what kind of food you're used to, but you're welcome to it."

Krolia looked and sniffed the different foods, and tried what seemed to be the simplest items, ones that must have been grown rather than made. She asked him to name the different fruits and nuts, and taste-tested each one to see if she could stomach it. Another time, she would have to ask him about the processed food that probably required longer explanations and might not sound appetizing when the details were known.

The Earthling poked his own food with a metallic utensil, but he seemed preoccupied, which was understandable given the circumstances. "When I woke up, I wondered if what happened last night was a dream. Then I looked outside and saw the ship still there, came downstairs and you were still here."

"I hope I'm not a burden," Krolia said truthfully. He had been so kind to her, the last thing she wanted was to be any trouble to him.

"No, no! I was actually—kind of glad. Not that you crashed, but that you're still here. I mean … it's just a lot to wrap my head around." He took a few bites of the yellow foodstuff, then put down his utensil. "Is it alright if I ask questions while we eat, or should that wait?"

Krolia finished chewing some dried fruit before she answered. "I'll tell you what I can, but if I say I can't tell you something, you must leave it at that."

He nodded, agreeing to the condition, and then began. "Do you have a name?"

Somehow, answering that question seemed just as significant as any other he might ask. Names were personal, respectful, intimate. Using a person's name showed recognition of their identity, their dignity, and one's relationship with them.

There was no reason to hide it from him, though. "Krolia."

"Krolia," he repeated, looking intently at her. He smiled slightly again. "I like that."

"And what are you called?" she asked him.

"John. Can I ask—what planet are you from?"

"My people, the Galra, originally came from a planet called Daibazaal. It was destroyed a long time ago."

"Destroyed—how?"

"It's a long story. I don't think you're ready for it yet."

"Okay. So where do your people live now?"

"All over the universe."

"Sort of a diaspora, huh?" Seeing her lack of recognition he added, "That means scattered to different places."

Krolia nodded slowly. "Yes, I suppose you could say that." She did not want to tell him just yet that the Galra had not scattered like frightened animals so much as spread like a cancer. Since it was her turn to pose a question, she asked him, "What is your occupation?"

"I'm a firefighter. Do you have those in space?"

"Some planets might. … I'm not familiar with that practice."

"If there's an emergency, like a fire too big for an average person to put out, they call the fire department, and a team comes to them with vehicles and tools and water to put out the fire and save anyone endangered by it."

"Really? Is that considered dangerous?"

"Yes."

"That sounds like a noble vocation."

John smiled, seeming embarrassed but pleased by the compliment.

Krolia's first task was salvaging whatever parts and contents of her ship could be used and destroying whatever could not. John let her accumulate a pile of supplies in his garage, much of it dented or charred from the crash. He looked at it with curiosity, but always kept a respectful distance from Krolia and her work.

John seemed to intuitively understand that Krolia was not the kind of person to warm up to someone quickly. He was welcoming and generous, willing to help and share, but he never overstepped his bounds.

She let him help with the second part of the task, dragging the remaining wreckage to a more open area, away from any manmade structures. There, she set up a bomb and set it off remotely, blowing up the remains of her ship. There was something cathartic about watching the explosion. It carried a sense of finality, forcing Krolia to accept her fate, uncertain as it was, being stranded on this planet with the sole objective of finding and protecting the Blue Lion.

John's job as a firefighter required him to spend long shifts away from his home. He would be on duty for a day or two, then come home and rest for an equal amount of time before going back out. He considered calling out for a few days, chalking it up to a "family emergency," so he could keep an eye on Krolia while she recovered, but she insisted that she was fine and would be alright in his absence.

On John's first trip into town after Krolia's arrival, he bought some clothes for her, so she would not have to keep borrowing his. He said they were the kind of garments a female civilian would wear in this kind of climate and environment. There was a sleeveless shirt he called a tank top, good to wear in the desert heat, and a long-sleeved jacket with a hood for colder temperatures. Krolia was not used to going around with so much skin exposed. It felt strange at first, but she came to like it, as it felt much freer than the protective armor and space suits she was used to wearing.

While she was alone, Krolia tried to fix her tracking technology and learn about the surrounding area. She was still hesitant to tell John too much about her mission, but it occurred to her that having him help her could save time, since he already knew the area better than she.

When they were together, they never ran out of things to talk about, even with Krolia keeping limits on how much she revealed. Most of the time they used her translation tech, but as weeks passed they also taught each other how to speak their respective languages. John showed her how to live on Earth, and she told him about life in other parts of the universe.

Considering John had never known of alien life, he was incredibly open-minded about it. He quickly came to understand that most of the differences between Galra, humans, and other civilizations were cultural rather than biological. Krolia described her society, where both males and females were trained to be physically fit so they could serve in the military and produce strong offspring. John called it Spartan, comparing it to an ancient Earth city-state with a similarly militaristic culture. Krolia could only wonder if it was a fair comparison, as she knew nothing of Earth's history.

When she asked about his family, John said he lived by himself because his few living relatives were in other parts of the country. He had never married.

"Why is that?" Krolia asked. By now they were comfortable enough with each other that they were not afraid to ask and answer more personal questions as well as practical ones.

John shrugged. "It's not that I wouldn't have liked to. I just never met the right person." He turned the questioning around to her, as was their habit. "Do you have family?"

"Not by blood. My colleagues are the closest thing."

"I take it you're not married."

"I am not."

He gave her a strange, sideways look. "Did you ever want to be?"

Krolia was ambivalent, as she had always been, on this point. There may have been a time when she wanted to have a husband and children, but during her adolescence, as she became more aware of the injustice in the Empire, she had concluded it would be selfish and unfair for her to have the luxury of raising a family while the Galra Empire tore apart so many families.

When she had learned about the Blade of Marmora and realized she was meant to fight for them, she had ruled out the possibility of settling down and raising a family. Kolivan only accepted unmarried initiates and preferred those who had few other family ties. Any personal interests could become liabilities. Krolia had never had a problem with that, until she came to Earth. The longer she was there, the more she liked it, and the more she got to know John, the more she liked him.

It had been a long time since Krolia had a friend. Then again, she was not sure she had ever had someone she could call a friend. The Blades were allies, bound by a code, their loyalty to each other borne out of their shared commitment to their mission. They did not form personal attachments, not even to each other.

Krolia cared for John very much, but she was not entirely sure whether she cared about him for his own sake or because he was the channel through which she was coming to know this planet. She also wondered whether his care for her was due to her personality or her uniqueness. He _must_ have cared about her, to tolerate her presence for so long—and not only tolerate it, but make it more enjoyable for both of them.

Eventually, she came to trust him enough to reveal her mission, both the object of her specific search and her commitment to the larger cause.

"Our leader began a campaign of expansion and exploitation that has continued for ten thousand of your Earth years. I'm part of a small, elite group that is trying to put a stop to it from the inside."

John's mind reeled from this new information, trying to imagine and believe in what she was describing. "If what you're saying is true, Krolia, shouldn't we tell people—the scientists, the military? There's a base not too far away, the Galaxy Garrison, that trains space explorers."

"No. Your planet has gone unnoticed this long because your people never ventured far from it. If Earth became involved in the war, it would become a target, and a practically defenseless one."

He seemed lost, helpless. "What can I do?" Now that he knew the danger, he needed to do something about it.

Krolia looked evenly at him. "You can help me find the ship before they do." It was both a dare and a request. John's response was simply to nod.

They started making trips on his hoverbike, a vehicle that was not particularly impressive by Galra standards but could be a thrill to ride over the desert and mountain terrain. They explored the caves and tried to use what was left of Krolia's instruments to track the Voltron lion.

Their biggest breakthrough was discovering several caves whose walls bore carvings of lions. But it took them weeks to find their way through the tunnels to the cavern where it was hidden.

It was surrounded by a particle barrier, something John had never seen before. They stood before it in awe. Even though Krolia had seen the Red Lion in person, she could not help but be amazed by the size and might of this one. "I never thought I'd see another lion in my lifetime," she said breathlessly.

John stepped closer to the Blue Lion, incredulous at the sight of the alien craft. "You've been telling me about this ship for months, but … this is beyond words." His took his eyes off it to look at Krolia over his shoulder. "You sure you don't want me to contact the Garrison? They could help."

"We've discussed this," Krolia insisted, gentle but adamant. "It could put your entire civilization in jeopardy."

John turned around further to look at her fully. "Does this mean you're going to contact your people and continue your mission?"

He was afraid she was going to leave. But Krolia had already made up her mind, though she had not allowed herself to articulate her desire or her decision until now. She looked down at the ground, almost ashamed of how she felt. "My ship being destroyed was the best thing that ever happened to me," she confided. She lifted her head, looking at John and then beyond him at the Blue Lion. "I wouldn't go back even if I could." She stepped forward and stood next to him, still focusing on the Lion. "I have a new mission now. I'm going to stay here and protect the Blue Lion."

John reached out and clasped her hand. Krolia looked at it in surprise, then met his eyes. He looked happy, and determined. "I want to help," he said simply, his eyes shining with earnestness.

Krolia stared at him, then softened, accepting his offer.

They continued to hold hands as they left the cave and returned to the hoverbike. As John steered, Krolia sat behind him and held on to him tighter than she had before, though not as tight as she could, since she knew herself to be the stronger of the two.

That night, their questions took a new turn. John's skin, which he had explained was tan from exposure to Earth's sun, turned red and warm when he stammered out questions about Galra customs for courtship, marriage, and mating. It was comical, but also endearing, how afraid he was of offending her. Krolia cautiously answered his questions, hoping and yet afraid to hope that he was going in a certain direction with them.

"I realized something while we were searching," John told her. "I don't think of you as an alien anymore. I just think of you as Krolia. And when I think of all the women I've met, you stand out, not because of where you're from, but just because of who you are. You're brave, strong, smart, and skilled. What you do, fighting your own people to keep your ideals … you risk everything to do the right thing, when you have nothing to gain from it. I've never known anyone else with that much integrity."

Krolia realized he was trying to explain that he loved her just as much as she loved him. And now that she had decided to stay on Earth, and he was committed to helping her, they could plan a future together.

They could not technically get married. A marriage required witnesses, people who could testify to the promises made between spouses, and that was not possible for them. Krolia smiled to imagine her colleagues playing such a role. Perhaps in another reality it could have been so. But even if they had to keep their relationship secret, they could still make a life, maybe even a family, together. It was more than Krolia had ever hoped for, and now that it was within reach, she realized just how much she wanted it. She wanted John to belong to her; she wanted to belong to him; and she wanted to make him happy and safe.

It turned out to be the longest night of their lives, as they alternated between talking and touching each other in new ways. They shared secrets, made promises, requested and granted permission. That night, after months of restraint and reservation, they gave each other every part of themselves, without holding anything back. It was a leap of faith in each other and in the possibility of peace. They both knew coming together as spouses was a risk, an investment in more ways than one; and they accepted it, committing themselves to each other and whatever future they could create.


	4. Son of Man

_Published October 24, 2018, in honor of Keith's birthday yesterday._

Warning: This chapter contains a scene of childbirth.

"Son of Man"

* * *

"And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High;  
for you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him,  
to give his people the knowledge of salvation  
through the forgiveness of their sins,  
because of the tender mercy of our God,  
by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven  
to shine on those living in darkness  
and in the shadow of death,  
to guide our feet into the path of peace."

And the child grew and became strong in spirit; and he lived in the wilderness until he appeared publicly to Israel.

~ Luke 1:76-80, New International Version

* * *

The way Krolia lived with John was the kind of lifestyle the Blade of Marmora was fighting to preserve: peaceful and fruitful, rather than chaotic and destructive. For the first time in her life, tranquility and happiness were concrete, present experiences rather than abstract ideals or past realities. And every time she thought she was happier than she had ever been before, something happened to make her even happier—an experience, a discovery, an accomplishment.

Krolia had only ever known competition and conquest in the Galra Empire, and anonymity and secrecy in the Blade of Marmora. Her presence on Earth was still a secret, but she was no longer anonymous: she had one confidante from whom she hid nothing. It was exhilarating, being so open and intimate, allowing herself to be vulnerable in ways she had never been before. She knew Kolivan would not have approved of the risks she took, but she was operating on her own set of rules now.

In the Galra military, Krolia had been trained to destroy life. In the Blade of Marmora, she had learned to defend it. Now, after cross-checking their Earth and Galra calendars and analyzing the signs of her body, she was overjoyed to learn that she could create it.

While Krolia was pregnant, their physical relationship became more tender. Before, John had not been afraid of being rough with her, because she was stronger than him. Now, he was sometimes tentative, often protective, knowing someone—a part of him—was vulnerable and dependent inside her.

"What kind of kid is it going to be?" he wondered aloud, stroking Krolia's stomach. "There's never been one like it."

Krolia shrugged, smiling slightly. "The same is true of any child, technically speaking."

"Yeah, but I mean, in all of Earth's history, no human has had a kid with someone from another planet." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Or maybe some did, only they kept it secret."

Krolia frowned and looked warily at him. "Will it bother you if the baby is purple?"

That made him laugh, and then he hugged and kissed her. "If it looks anything like you, that'll be a reason to be happy."

To be on the safe side, they researched the development of human children, both in the womb and during the first months and years following birth. Krolia learned just how fragile humans were in comparison to Galra, who had evolved with greater strength and endurance than almost any other race in the known universe. On the other hand, it seemed Earthlings had come a long way in medical science over a relatively short period of time. While studying human fetology, Krolia was amazed to find out at what early stages of pregnancy a child could be delivered and still live.

The prospect of a home birth made John a nervous wreck. As a first responder, he was trained in advanced first aid, but he had never helped a woman deliver a child before. If something went wrong, and Krolia needed medical treatment, he would have to act as the surgeon. Taking her to a hospital was out of the question, at least in Krolia's view.

"What about if the baby needs something, and doesn't look like he's from Earth? Would you want to keep it hidden here?"

Krolia scowled, but conceded, "No."

They planned ahead as much as they could. They agreed that John should continue to work as though nothing unusual was going on, to avoid suspicion from his coworkers who had already noticed how he seemingly kept to himself.

The labor began when John was working a shift at the fire station. Krolia got everything that might be needed and set herself up in the kitchen to breathe through her contractions.

When John came home, he found her panting and perspiring, yet completely calm and relatively unfazed by the pain.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked, pulling a chair up next to hers.

Krolia's lips curled in what might have been either a smile or a grimace. "I've felt worse than this. I could tell you stories—" She broke off with a gasp and a wince.

"You can tell me later," John said, wiping face with a damp cloth. Krolia had been prepared to give birth alone—she knew she could have, if it had come to that—but now that John was there, she could not help but feel grateful for his presence. She let him help as much as he could, so he could feel like he was of use even when she was doing the hardest work.

"You decide what name you want?" John asked. They had bounced ideas off of each other but put off making a decision. Now, however, seemed to him like a good time to choose.

"Wait until he's here, and after we've cleaned up."

The pain did intensify toward the end, but Krolia refused to squeeze John's hand through the worst of it, for fear of injuring him; she crushed the edge of the wooden kitchen table instead.

John caught their child as it entered the world. "It's a boy!" He made an incredulous sound, halfway between a sob and a laugh, as he held the baby up. "Krolia, we have a son." He quickly cleaned off the amniotic fluid and placed the baby on Krolia's breast.

She saw right away that their son did not look like a Galra. His skin was a color somewhere between white and beige, like the palest desert sand when the sun was directly overhead. His hair was as black as outer space appeared between stars and planets. His fingers and toes had no claws, just tiny nails. But he moved his tiny arms and legs vigorously, crying and instinctively searching and fighting. Krolia took in all these features in awe, loving every one of them.

Once the mother and child were both clean, Krolia said, "Let's go outside. I want him to see the sun." She held the infant, swaddled in a blanket, and let John support her as they went out the door and off the porch. She turned the baby's face outward toward his home planet, letting the sun shine on him for the first time.

They stood there for some time, marveling at the baby, each other, and the life they had created together.

"We'll name him Yorak," Krolia decided, looking fondly at her son's face.

John was silent for a moment, then suggested, "How 'bout Keith?"

"Keith." That almost sounded like a Galra name, with a strong consonant sound as well as a breathy whisper between one's teeth. "I like that."

They spent the rest of John's break between shifts getting to know their son. John made Krolia rest so she could recover from the birth, but she wanted to be with Keith just as much as he did. They spent a lot of time just lying in bed or lounging on the sofa, cuddling with him, feeding him, watching him sleep.

Krolia was Keith's sole caretaker while John was at work. Her daily routine revolved around feeding, changing diapers, playing, and soothing to sleep. She quickly learned that she needed to sleep at the same time as him if she was going to get any sleep at all. She had enough stamina to go for days without sleep, but she knew she needed to stay in her best possible condition so she could take care of Keith, especially while he was nursing. Since Keith was a hybrid of two different planets' races, they did not know whether he would be able to digest Earth mammals' milk or Earth baby formula, and they figured his own mother's milk would nourish him best.

When she nursed him, Krolia found she did not know the right words to describe it in either the Galra language or John's Earth language, which he said was called "English," having originated from a country called England. Even though her son was no longer inside her, they were still connected in a strange, intimate way. Keith needed what she was giving him, as much as he needed air and warmth, to simply stay alive. Her body was still giving him food, helping him grow strong. He _needed_ to grow strong; he was so incredibly tiny!

When John was home, Krolia let him take turns caring for Keith. Sometimes she used that time to catch up on her own rest. Constantly attending to such a helpless being's needs was draining in a way different from combat training. She also wanted to get back into fighting shape as soon as possible—not that she anticipated having to fight in the near future, but it would be imprudent to let herself go soft.

John actually talked to Keith, as though the infant could understand him. Krolia thought this was foolish, but he claimed it was how babies learned how to talk. So Krolia got in the habit of showing Keith objects and naming them. But John had deep, though one-sided, conversations with him.

One night, Krolia was dozing in bed while John played with Keith who lay between them on the mattress. She heard John say, "Every parent thinks their kid is special … but Keith, you're more special than any other kid on Earth. You're a part of _two_ worlds. There's no one else on Earth who can say that."

Those words made Krolia feel somber. As much as she relished this life they were building together, she could not help but worry sometimes. Even if the Galra never bothered them here, her presence and Keith's heritage could pose complications for John and for Keith himself. They could not keep a growing child isolated the way Krolia had been for over a year now. It would not be fair to him, and it might create suspicion if it was discovered they had been keeping a child hidden away from the world.

She waited until John had fallen asleep before she propped herself up on her arm and looked down at Keith, sleeping peacefully between his parents. She stroked his hair and his cheeks, feeling the textures that had become familiar by now. Keith stirred at her touch, but she soothed him so John could continue to sleep.

She laid her head next to her son's and whispered to him the way John did, as though he could understand the words. "Whatever happens, no matter what we choose, things are going to be hard for you. I'm sorry for that. But I promise we'll do everything we can do for you to have a good life."

Krolia had never felt so protective of anyone, probably because she had never known anyone so vulnerable, so dependent, so incredible. For that person to be her own son, half of herself and half of the man she loved, only made him all the more precious to her. She had not known—had never come close to imagining—how much love one person could feel, give, and receive until she came to Earth.

Not for the first time, she had a lurking suspicion that perhaps she ought to be afraid of such intense feelings and attachments. Kolivan would have argued that they were liabilities, that she should never have dallied so much in the first place, that she was digging herself into a hole and making it increasingly difficult to climb out. But Krolia did not want to climb out of this hole. As long as John and Keith were safe and she could be with them, she would stay and continue to invest in their family.


	5. You'll Be In My Heart

_Published February 12, 2019_

"You'll Be In My Heart"

* * *

Mrs. Darling quivered and went to the window. It was securely fastened. She looked out, and the night was peppered with stars. They were crowding round the house, as if curious to see what was to take place there, but she did not notice this, nor that one or two of the smaller ones winked at her. Yet a nameless fear clutched at her heart and made her cry, "Oh, how I wish that I wasn't going to a party to-night!"

Even Michael, already half asleep, knew that she was perturbed, and he asked, "Can anything harm us, mother, after the night-lights are lit?"

"Nothing, precious," she said; "they are the eyes a mother leaves behind her to guard her children."

She went from bed to bed singing enchantments over them, and little Michael flung his arms round her. "Mother," he cried, "I'm glad of you." They were the last words she was to hear from him for a long time.

~ J. M. Barrie, _Peter Pan_

* * *

Krolia was not entirely surprised when the Galra came. Through she had hoped otherwise, she had known all along that the Blue Lion could be tracked by other Galra scouts. That was ultimately why she had stayed, besides not having a means of transportation. She had not decided to stay here because of her attachment to John or desire for children. She had stayed to protect the Blue Lion, and she had agreed to let John help her. She had decided long ago to trust him, so it was easy, now, to give him the instructions and go separate ways.

The biggest surprise was the moment when her former colleague said that John was dead. The fear and devastation that hit Krolia were stronger than anything she had imagined. She could not be entirely certain the scout was telling the truth. Perhaps he was just trying to manipulate her emotions so she would be off balance and unable to fight so well.

Holding on to whatever threads of hope were left, she managed to keep a clear head and fight her way out. But she was not quick enough to stop the scout from reaching his fighter. When she came outside and saw it taking off, she thought she would have to take one of the others; but then it exploded in midair. John, though injured, had regained consciousness and mustered enough strength to set off the explosives.

Realizing that John was alive, and that he had detonated the explosives and prevented the Galra from escaping with news of the Lion, should have brought immense relief. But there was too much work to do for this to feel like a victory.

After bringing John home and making sure Keith was safe, Krolia took the hoverbike back to the cave. She killed and buried the remaining scouts to prevent them from communicating with the Galra or hurting anyone else on Earth. It was not the first time she had taken an intelligent being's life, but it usually happened in the heat of battle, not afterwards. And it was the first time she had ended a life after bringing one into being. She had gotten used to the idea of herself as a person of peace, but there was no getting rid of the part of her that was a warrior.

They could not bring John to the doctor, so Krolia treated his injuries as best she could. She was not trained as a medic, but she knew more than basic first aid, and since arriving on Earth she had learned quite a bit about human biology in general and John's body in particular.

"Remember when you first came here, and I patched you up?" John tried to smile through the pain. "We've come full circle."

Krolia did not return the smile. She simply finished wrapping his arm and helped him put it in a sling. Then she put her hand on his uninjured shoulder. "I'm sorry this happened."

"It's not your fault."

"If it weren't for you, more Galra would already be on their way here. You saved your planet. But you shouldn't have had to."

As Krolia put away the first aid supplies, she thought of the scouts' fighters, which had not been destroyed by the explosions. Now that there were ships available, she could leave if she so chose.

She did not come right out and say what she was thinking, but John could tell. While he rested, Krolia did not change out of her old armor into her Earth clothes. She was distracted and standoffish, brooding by the window instead of interacting with Keith. She only snapped out of it when John asked for her help—it was difficult caring for Keith with only one arm.

"We won today," he reminded her. "They didn't get the lion."

"But they almost got you," Krolia said flatly.

"Krolia—"

"Listen to me, John. Zarkon wants nothing less than total universal domination. I thought it might not reach Earth, but with a Voltron lion here, and Sendak's scouts looking for the other lions, it's only a matter of time before the Empire's expansion campaign reaches Earth." She looked at John. "You can't fully grasp what that means, but I know. I've seen worlds destroyed. Sometimes it's a slow process of mining and colonizing, subjugating the native people. Other times it's swift and immediate. Your people don't have the technology or organization necessary to relocate to another planet. Even if they did, to lose your home planet … mine was destroyed before I was born, but even I've felt the sense of homelessness. I won't let that happen to Earth." She looked down at Keith, who was moving his arms and legs in his sleep, as though he were dreaming of fighting. "If I leave, I can help make this planet and the universe safe for Keith to grow up in."

Now that the possibility was out in the open, John started grasping for alternatives. "Could you take us with you?"

"I don't want him to grow up with war. And no one would respect or understand you. You would both be liabilities to me. On Earth you'll be safely out of the way."

John's tone was rueful. "I wish you weren't so reasonable."

Keith woke up then, and Krolia picked him up to nurse him one last time. She wondered whether it would be better to leave when he was awake or asleep, then decided it did not matter, because either way, he would eventually miss her and cry for her. She felt bad for putting John in the position of comforting him then.

She waited longer than she could justify before she came out and said it: "I must go."

John did not argue with her. Leaning his good hand on the edge of Keith's crib, he said, "I thought you'd seen enough of war."

Krolia was calm but adamant. "If they found the Blue lion once, they'll find it again. I need to report back to the Blades and stop the Galra from the inside." She came over to the crib and put her hand over John's. "I'm sorry, but this is the best way for me to keep you both safe." She bent over and kissed Keith's soft, chubby cheek. His skin was the softest thing she had ever felt, after a lifetime spent in environments of hard surfaces and sharp edges.

She drew her blade from her belt and held it out to John. "This is for Keith." She looked into John's eyes, cautioning him. "He may need it someday."

John looked at her with an expression that was hard but understanding. She knew he was upset, but he was also resolved, or at least resigned. He picked up the knife in his good hand, turning the handle between his fingers, as though testing its weight. Then he looked back at her and asked, "Will we ever see you again?"

Krolia lowered her eyes. "It's not impossible, but I can't promise that."

"What if something happens to you? How will we know?"

"You won't. I'm sorry." Krolia clenched her fists, refusing to cry. She had to be strong, for her own sake and for John's. She swallowed, getting a hold of herself before she asked, "Will you tell him about me?"

There was an unspoken option: John could try to erase her entirely from Keith's life, so he never knew who his mother was, how she had been different. The truth would be difficult for a small child to understand and hide.

But John shook his head. "I'll explain everything when he's old enough to understand."

"Thank you." She touched his face and kissed him one last time, briefly but deeply. Then, before either of them could lose their nerve, she pulled away and left the room, then the house.

Krolia had not cried during any of the innumerable moments of joy, pain, fear, frustration, or sadness she had experienced with them. But she cried in the privacy of the fighter, so that when she returned to the Blade of Marmora base, all her tears had dried.

She knew it would not be easy, but out of love for her family, she _would_ learn to live with the pain of being separated from them.


	6. Star Student

_Published August 11, 2017.  
Updated September 16, 2018 to fit canon._

"Star Student"

* * *

Step out onto the Planet.  
Draw a circle a hundred feet round.

Inside the circle are  
300 things nobody understands, and, maybe  
nobody's ever really seen.

How many can you find?

~ Lew Welch, "Step Out Onto the Planet"

* * *

Keith never liked having to interact with people. He didn't like crowds or noise. He preferred quiet, open spaces, perhaps with just one or two people for company.

Maybe that was part of the reason he was willing to consider the Galaxy Garrison, after Takashi "Shiro" Shirogane visited his school. For one thing, in order to see the stars properly you had to be far from bright places like cities. For another, it was cool to imagine the vast emptiness stretching out between celestial bodies, and uninhabited but possibly inhabitable planets.

The more Keith read about space, the more the idea of being an astroexplorer appealed to him. Various social workers and foster parents told Keith it might be more realistic to become a pilot for aircraft that stayed within Earth's atmosphere. He had to admit that they were cool, too. He really enjoyed driving any kind of vehicle, especially new models like hoverbikes. But space still offered uncharted territory, free of boundaries. It was dangerous, too, as he learned from various books on the topic, and there was something enticing about that danger.

Keith liked the desert where the Galaxy Garrison was located, but he had mixed feelings about the Garrison itself. He liked the idea of learning about space and becoming a pilot, but it was a military school, which meant lots of rules. He had imagined space as a place without rules, since no one really controlled it. But astronauts had to follow protocols beyond the rules of survival: crew members had to follow a chain of command, commanders and pilots had to delegate tasks, scientists had to make ethical choices.

Rules were a funny thing for Keith. When he stayed at places that had a lot of them, he resented them and wanted to rebel. But when he stayed at places that had very few, he wished there was more structure. No place that he stayed at seemed to have the balance he wanted.

After Shiro visited the middle school, the students recommended for the Garrison were invited to visit the military school for a tour, to help them decide if they wanted to attend. Keith knew his teacher had not included him, but Shiro insisted that he come.

The tour included watching a trio of students use a flight simulator. Keith envied them, seeing the way the pilot, engineer, and communications officer interacted. He was completely drawn into the simulation. He wanted to try it. He wouldn't have minded just being a passenger, to actually feel what it was like to move through outer space.

The last stop on the tour was the gift shop. Some kids, like James Griffen, had money and were able to buy snacks, toys, school supplies, or clothes. Keith had not thought to bring his comparatively pitiful savings. He regretted this as soon as he saw the different kits to build model spaceships.

Keith looked around furtively, trying to make sure that no one was watching him, before standing with his back to the shelf. With his hands behind his back, he managed to slide a package off the metal rack and stuff it up the back of his jacket.

"You're not very subtle," a voice said somewhere above or behind him.

Keith had looked all around, but he had not thought to look _up_ , and Shiro was tall enough to look down over the shelf from the other side. As Shiro circled around, Keith instinctively ducked and turned, ready to either run or fight. He was about to deny having done anything when Shiro said quietly, "I want to ask you something. Do you know how much it costs for one person to attend this school?"

Keith didn't know what this guy was playing at, asking such a random question, whose answer, he realized, he did not know. "Um … no."

"It's expensive. Most kids get in on scholarships, so the school needs to raise money any way it can. So if you steal that, you'll be costing the school money, and keeping that money from a student who needs it. And it'll make the Garrison think they shouldn't invite kids here because they aren't trustworthy, so your friends and other kids won't be able to visit in the future."

Keith stared in confusion and wonder. Shiro shrugged. "Just something to think about." With that he walked away, leaving Keith standing there forlornly, still pulling on his jacket to keep the package in place on his back.

Keith huffed, then went back to the rack, and put the model back in the same manner he had picked it up. When he turned to the exit, he saw that Shiro had not left the shop after all, but remained watching him. Shiro smiled at him, but Keith scowled.

"What do you think of the Garrison?"

Keith shrugged. "It's cool. But I wish I could've tried the simulator."

"You're not the first visitor to say that. The thing is, too many come for everyone to get a turn, at least when there are students who need to use it." He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "But, it just so happens that no one is using it now."

Keith looked at him with wide eyes. "Is that allowed?"

Shiro just smiled. Keith never learned the answer, but he later guessed that Shiro could get away with things like that, either because he had the clearance, or because no one suspected him of breaking or bending rules.

Shiro found a student named Matt to help in the simulation. As they walked down, Shiro asked him quietly, "You can erase it from the records, right?"

Matt's response was, "Who do you think you're talking to?"

Keith sat in the communications officer's chair, where he watched and listened in awe as Shiro and Matt talked over him and circumvented the problems and obstacles that came up. As for the motion itself, the closest thing Keith had ever experienced was a roller coaster, but this was far more exciting to him.

When the visitors were lining up to leave, Shiro excused himself, and came back with a small shopping bag from the Galaxy Garrison gift shop. He held it out to Keith, who accepted it uncertainly. Inside was the model kit Keith had tried to shoplift. He was amazed, but his instinctual suspicion still lingered. "I can't pay you back," he said cautiously, his eyes flickering up at the older boys.

"You don't have to," Shiro replied.

"It's called a gift," Matt added helpfully.

"Wow." Keith looked at the kit once more, excitement settling in as he thought of putting it together. "Thank you." It was probably the first time he had ever said those words without an adult prompting him to do so.

"Keith!" The chaperone called and waved for him to come over as the last students boarded the bus.

"I gotta go," Keith said. Though less than half an hour ago he had been bored and eager to go, now he found he did not want to leave.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Keith," Matt said, and gave a playful salute to both of them before going back inside.

"I'll reach out to you through your school," Shiro promised Keith. "But if you want to come here again, just let me know."

"Okay." Keith went up the stairs, holding the package to his chest, already thinking about where he could put it together and where he could keep it when it was completed. Some kids at the group home had no respect for personal belongings. He took a seat near the back of the bus, ignoring James Griffen when he spotted the model kit and demanded to compare it to the one he had bought. But when the bus pulled away a minute later, he looked out the window at Shiro, so they were able to wave goodbye.


	7. Paying It Forward

_Published September 2, 2017.  
Updated September 16, 2018 to fit canon._

"Paying It Forward"

* * *

Really great people make you feel that you, too, can become great. ~ Mark Twain

* * *

Notifying Shiro of Keith's changing contact information as he moved from one foster home to another may have been bending some rule, but Shiro was a highly respected officer, and he seemed to be a good influence on the sometimes-wayward boy, so Keith's social worker allowed and enabled them to stay in touch.

Shiro encouraged Keith's his interest in science and aviation, and helped to convince his foster parents to let him take flying lessons and visit the Garrison again.

"I want to help you, Keith. I think you've got a lot of potential. But what you decide to do with it is up to you."

Many people had expressed pity for Keith and said they wanted to help him, but no one, except perhaps his father, had told him they believed he could do anything. It was strange, but not in a bad way. It kind of made him want to prove himself.

When Keith was finally old enough to enroll, Shiro got him an application and wrote a letter of recommendation, just as Commander Holt had for him.

As a student, Keith gained a new appreciation for just how highly Shiro and the Holts ranked in the Garrison. Commander Holt was practically a celebrity, and his son was expected to follow in his footsteps. Shiro's picture and various awards hung in the trophy cases where heroic students, alumni, and faculty were recognized and immortalized for their achievements.

But he quickly found out that

Shiro was the first and only person who looked out for Keith without having any obligation to do so. He wasn't a social worker, or a teacher, or a counselor, or a guardian, or a relative of any kind. His own reputation and career prospects had no stake in Keith's welfare. His concern was disinterested, and Keith could not understand it.

On one of their first outings, Keith asked, with some measure of suspicion, "How come you're so nice to me?"

Shiro frowned, puzzled by the question. "Do you think I shouldn't?"

"No, it's … you're nice to everyone, really, but …" Keith tried to rephrase his question. "You're already busy with training and recruiting and stuff. Why do you take time out for me?"

"Well … besides your obvious natural aptitude that would make you valuable to the Garrison … remember my friend Matt?"

"Yeah."

"His dad is Commander Sam Holt."

"Really?" Keith had heard that name mentioned, both during the Garrison tour and in some astronomy magazines.

"He kind of took me under his wing—actually, he's done that for a lot of students. I got where I am now because Commander Holt saw potential in me and helped me out. He's done me a lot of favors. When I tried to thank him, he said instead of trying to return the favor, I should do the same thing for someone else. So I try to do that for other people. And then they do the same for others, and the benefits keep multiplying. It's called 'paying it forward.'"

Keith had never heard of such a concept, helping people without expecting anything in return. But he knew how Shiro must have felt, being at the receiving end of such an arrangement. So he stopped being suspicious, and learned to simply accept and reciprocate the older boy's friendship. Shiro's demanding schedule prevented them from getting together as often as they would have liked, but that made their time together all the more special.

Around adults, Shiro acted mature; but around younger people, he loosened up; and he never, ever looked down on people who were younger or smaller than he. Keith appreciated that. He was nice, but not in the same way as most of the nice adults Keith knew. He was kind without being sentimental, encouraging without being cheesy.

Keith didn't mind talking to Shiro, and Shiro didn't mind letting silence hang between them. Shiro understood Keith in a way no one else had before. He never presumed to identify with Keith's emotions, but he knew how to respond to them. He was never condescending or critical or contemptuous, like many of Keith's teachers. Neither was he sentimental or presumptuous, like some counselors and social workers. He knew when to scold and when to encourage. He knew when to reach out to Keith and when to leave him alone.

Shiro steered Keith away from the self-destructive pastimes he sometimes resorted to in secret—playing with fire, smoking stolen cigarettes, cutting and burning his skin, bartering for drugs and sampling a few of the cheaper, less addictive ones. Shiro introduced him to healthier pastimes: jogging, hiking, wrestling, martial arts, rock-climbing, and driving various types of vehicles.

As they grew closer, Keith couldn't help but relish the awed and sometimes envious looks he got when Shiro greeted him in front of other students and staff. He never felt more accepted than when Shiro showed that he was a friend, a valuable member of the community.

Sometimes, on weekends or vacations, they went hiking, climbed rock formations, or borrowed hoverbikes to ride across the desert. Keith had forgotten how much he missed driving. His father's hoverbike was locked away in storage, and Keith had not been able to ride anything as fast or fun as that since he died.

Shiro was not at liberty to disclose many details about his work, but rumors spread around the Garrison pretty quickly, and there were press releases about the biggest missions. Keith, for his part, made a point of finding out as much as he could about Shiro's upcoming missions.

The mission to Kerberos was the biggest upcoming project the Garrison was preparing for, and it was common knowledge that Shiro was the favorite candidate for piloting the mission.

When Commander Iverson called Admiral Sanda to meet with Shiro and Commander Holt, Keith knew it had to be important. He decided to go to Shiro's office, which was normal enough for him to do that he could make up a legitimate excuse. He listened outside the door as Commander Holt and Admiral Sanda argued about Shiro's health and doctors and whether or not he could go on the mission.

Keith was shaken, not only by the idea that something was wrong with Shiro but also by the fact that Shiro was hiding it from him. Shiro was the most physically strong and fit person he knew, and he had never mentioned anything being wrong with his health. Keith had thought Shiro was someone he could trust to be honest with him. But Shiro had probably never seen him as more than a kid. Maybe he wanted to protect him from the truth. Keith knew he should appreciate that someone cared enough to want to protect him in any way, but he would have preferred to be treated like an equal.

He confronted Shiro, who admitted the truth. "I have a disease, and it's getting worse. I'll only be able to maintain my peak condition for a couple more years, and then, after that ..."

Now Keith was scared. Was Shiro going to die, like his father? Was he going to leave him, like his mother?

"The Garrison doesn't want me up there. Neither does Adam."

Keith did not know Adam well, but he knew Adam meant a lot to Shiro. "So, what are you gonna do?" Keith asked.

"I'm going on the mission."

Keith was amazed. He did not understand, and Shiro did not try to explain. Keith wondered if

Shiro was just barely able to tell Keith about the final decision for the Kerberos mission before the word got out. "They chose me to be the pilot, and Matt and his dad will be on the crew!" It was the best arrangement either of them could have imagined—excluding, perhaps, having Keith on the crew as well. Of course, since Shiro and Keith were both pilots, it was unlikely either of them would ever go on a mission together.

In the months leading up to the launch, Keith tried to act happy for Shiro's sake. His profession of pride was sincere. Plus, it was hard to be in a bad mood when Shiro was so happy. But Keith was not looking forward to the separation. Shiro was the only person he really looked forward to seeing on a regular basis. He was the one constant in Keith's life—which was ironic, because he had least reason to be. In fact, he had no reason at all to be in Keith's life.

Shiro recognized Keith's moodiness, and tried to talk him through it as he showed him around the launch site. "We'll be in regular contact. Just try not to get into trouble, because I won't be around to bail you out."

That got a smile out of Keith, in spite of his apprehension. "I'll try. Just make sure to come back, alright?"

Shiro chuckled. "Of course."

The Garrison staff cancelled classes so everyone could watch the launch, either at the base or on the news reports. Cadets held unofficial parties in the lounges. Teachers and students alike sneaked into town to join the local celebrations. Keith went along with a group of classmates, and tried to have fun. To some extent he succeeded. He felt genuinely proud of Shiro and glad that he was finally fulfilling his dream. Shiro had watched with well-deserved pride as Keith set out on a path to achieve his goals, and now Keith got to watch in admiration as Shiro achieved his.


	8. Fellow Failures

_Published September 20, 2017_

"Fellow Failures"

* * *

"How you have fallen from heaven,  
O star of the morning, son of the dawn!  
You have been cut down to the earth,  
You who have weakened the nations!  
But you said in your heart, 'I will ascend to heaven;  
I will raise my throne above the stars of God,  
And I will sit on the mount of assembly  
In the recesses of the north.' _"_

~ Isaiah 14:12-13

* * *

The Galaxy Garrison students knew something was wrong, even before the staff confirmed it. Entire days passed with no status report from the Kerberos crew circulating through mainstream news or social media. Granted, most of these reports were usually mundane, but there was almost always something new—a picture of a planet they had passed, even a bad space pun.

For two days, officers and messengers passed through hallways in unusual manners, with some with anxiety, a few with an air of absentminded worry, and some with great urgency.

Finally, the Galaxy Garrison released a statement to the media: the Kerberos crew was missing and presumed dead.

Everyone at the Garrison was stunned. Students cried in their dorms, in the bathrooms, and even public areas like the lounges, cafeteria, and library. Guidance counselors extended their hours so anyone could come in and talk about how they felt. The faculty called an assembly to console them and tell them the official version of the story. They hastily organized a memorial service in honor of the three astronauts. It was completely pointless: the Holts refused to come, and the Shiroganes lived too far away.

It did not feel like a death, in Keith's opinion. He remembered what that was like, both from his own family and from his experience with foster families. Sometimes, when a foster family he was staying with lost a friend or relative, they left him with a respite family so they could handle all the duties that came with death.

Keith felt angrier than he ever had in his life. He was mad at Shiro for going on the mission despite his sickness, knowing it might inhibit his ability to pilot. He was mad at the Garrison for letting Shiro go, and for pinning the blame on him.

It was not as though Keith depended on Shiro's presence in his life. But he had looked forward to occasionally seeing him, swapping stories and maybe sharing some experiences. Now that future was gone.

The Garrison wanted to close the case and move on—but not as though it had never happened. In fact, they mentioned the Kerberos mission frequently, holding it up as an example of what could happen if the students did not meet their standards.

In the weeks and months following the disappearance, several students dropped out, either of their own volition or at their parents' request. The general feeling was that if three of the most intelligent, dedicated, and talented astroexplorers could fail, it was unlikely that their inferiors could succeed. Those who chose to continue their training found themselves under twice as much pressure, which had already been great.

The people who seemed to be mourning bothered Keith because most of them had barely known Shiro; but the ones who moved on indifferently angered him, because they didn't appreciate. Worst of all were the ones who put the blame on Shiro. The Garrison did this implicitly by suggesting that the disappearance was due to pilot error. Of course, that also reflected badly on themselves as Shiro's trainers, but it was still mostly on Shiro. Some students did it explicitly, as they wanted to be able to blame a particular person for the failure of such a monumental mission in the history of mankind.

Sometimes Keith's anger was for Shiro, who had left him, proving he was just like everyone else who ever claimed to care. More often his anger was for the Garrison, which had failed to bring Shiro home and put the blame on him. Besides that, Keith had anger to spare for whatever unknown forces and circumstances had caused the disappearance.

Keith saw his expulsion coming long before it happened. His grades slipped as he failed to meet deadlines. Keith had always hated studying, but now he hardly felt motivation to even try. Shiro was no longer there to encourage him, to inspire him, to egg him on and keep him in line. Then, as his anger grew, he lashed out more often at his classmates and mouthed off at his teachers. At first they chalked it up to his grief and gave him second chances because he was the best pilot in his class. But when he got into an argument that gave way to physical violence, there was nothing anyone could do. Keith had to leave.

He no longer had a foster family or a group home to return to. He was eighteen now, no longer part of the foster system. Rather than check into a hotel or look for an apartment in the nearby town, Keith packed all his belongings on his hoverbike and brought them to an old shack he had found in the desert.

He would never be a pilot. He would never go to outer space. He would never even get a desk job or teaching post—not that he would have wanted one, but it would have at least kept him in the loop.

On top of his own disappointment at ruining his career plans, Keith felt like he had let Shiro down. He would have been disappointed to hear that his friend, such a talented pilot, had lost his chances—and all because he couldn't keep a lid on his emotions. But Keith's conscience rebelled against this line of thought, insisting that any organization that scapegoated someone like Shiro was not worth working for. He would have to find his own way.


	9. Alone Again

_Published October 23, 2017, in honor of Keith's birthday_

"Alone Again"

* * *

The stars are forth, the moon above the tops  
Of the snow-shining mountains.—Beautiful!  
I linger yet with Nature, for the night  
Hath been to me a more familiar face  
Than that of man; and in her starry shade  
Of dim and solitary loveliness,  
I learn'd the language of another world.

~ Lord Byron, _Manfred_ , Act 3, Scene 4, lines 1-7

* * *

The world had turned its back on Keith. He wanted to return the favor, but he knew he could not live in complete isolation. The desert environment was not conducive to a self-sufficient lifestyle.

In some ways, getting kicked out of the Garrison may have been a good thing, because it forced Keith out of mourning and into action. If he had people providing for his needs, he might have become listless and depressed. Relying on himself alone, he had to think and work to get take care of himself. Hunger drove him to get out of bed and find food. When he had nothing constructive to do, his thoughts drifted toward everything he had lost. The solution was to keep busy.

Keith thought about applying for a job in one of the nearby towns, but the ironic nature of his situation stopped him. He was smarter than most of the locals, but he could not put his education level on a job application without leading to questions about why he had been kicked out the Galaxy Garrison. Who would want to hire someone with work so unreliable and behavior so volatile that he was kicked out of the world's most prestigious space exploration academy without any regard for his talent?

So instead of seeking regular employment, Keith did odd jobs that could earn him money quickly and did not require long-term commitments or relationships. He dug through people's trash for scrap metal and other items he could sell or reuse. On recycling days, he drove his hoverbike around, collected cans people had set out on their sidewalks, and returned them for a deposit. It was a lot of work for not much money, but at least it gave him something to do. He found that the best way to not think about the things that made him sad was to keep busy.

The locals thought Keith was a hobo or a runaway. They were not entirely off the mark. He was not an outlaw, but he had no place among people. The only stage of his life when he had felt as though he belonged to something was when he attended the Garrison, and that part of his life was over.

In some ways, Keith liked living by himself. He had never had the opportunity before: everyone always said he needed someone to have custody of him. He had always liked the quiet of the desert, the freedom from social pressure.

When he got the hang of meeting his basic needs, Keith looked for other ways to fill his time. He developed a hobby that he had dabbled in long ago, before Shiro befriended him: pyrotechnics. He was careful not to buy anything too suspicious, but he learned about different ways to rig explosions using common materials. He set them off on occasions when they would not seem unusual, such as Independence Day. He did not plan to use them in any particular time or place, but it made him feel powerful to know that he could.

Keith knew he was reverting, somewhat, to the way he had been before he met Shiro. There seemed to be no point in being good when it didn't help him advance toward a goal. There wasn't even much point in staying safe and healthy. Without his friendship with Shiro or a future at the Garrison, he had nothing to live for. These thoughts crossed his mind every now and then, but he shoved them away. He wasn't sure if he was afraid of death, but he knew Shiro would not have wanted him to throw away his life. So for the sake of his friend's memory, he drew some lines. Though he did some risky activities, and did not always avoid pain, he never intentionally injured himself.

His boredom and restlessness, and some indefinable feeling—like some kind of energy—drove him to explore the desert. He bought a map book and began to make trips on his hoverbike, venturing beyond his and Shiro's old routes. When he did this, he felt something strange, like a magnetic pull causing him to gravitate toward them. At first, he thought it might be something to do with nature—"the call of the wild," or something like that. Or maybe it was the feeling that he needed to exercise after going so long with no training. He climbed the rocks and drove off cliffs to see how far and fast he could fall before cushioning his landing. It had been a long time since he went adrenaline junking.

Then, one day, he found something: an outcropping of giant boulders. They were really cool to look at, and promised hours of challenging, satisfying climbs. Then he found the caverns and caves. At first he thought they might be home to animals, but when he experimentally threw some stones inside, only a couple small lizards emerged. He went inside with a flashlight to poke around.

The stone walls had markings carved into them. At first glance, Keith assumed the markings were graffiti. But carving took a lot more effort than spraying paint from a can or even using a brush. Upon inspection Keith found that the carvings were neither new nor rudimentary: they ran deep, were smooth from slight erosion over time, and were fairly neat in their geometrical formation.

Keith was amazed. He remembered learning about Native American pictograms as a kid, with his father, and at one school's social studies unit. The only symbols and pictures he could understand were those of people and some large animal—lions, if he had to guess.

He marked the spot on his map of the desert, so he would be able to find it again. Then he went into the next nearest cave.

There were carvings of lions in that one, too.

And the next one.

Keith puzzled over the maps, wondering how he had never heard about this place, when it was so close to the Garrison. Did anyone else know about it? Surely he was not the first to come across it.

On his next trip into town, Keith found a public library, and obtained some books on language and Native American culture. He found a few helpful keys for interpreting pictograms. Strangely, though, he could not find any information on the carvings at that particular site. It did not seem to be registered as a cultural, historical, or archaeological landmark. That was a bit bewildering. Could Keith have been the first person to find them? Should he report it to someone—call a newspaper and tell them what he had found?

No. If he did that, people would flock to the area—reporters, scientists, historians, curious tourists. They would hassle him for interviews, giving him far more attention than he could want in a lifetime; and he would not be able to explore in peace.

If anyone was going to figure out the meaning of the carvings, it ought to be him. If he could compile data, then maybe someday he could publish his findings. That might earn him some money and give him some standing in the academic community, should he someday wish to reenter it.

It had been a while since Keith did anything that involved research. He hated studying, but he liked learning about topics that interested him. Space exploration no longer interested him the way it used to, not only because he did not have the motivation of attending the Garrison, but also because it was hard for him to look at the sky for long, knowing it had claimed Shiro. Having something new to learn about, something tangible yet mysterious, was stimulating.

Keith decided he would continue to learn, explore, and push the limits of his abilities; but he would do it on his own terms.

He visited the caves often, trying to piece together what the carvings were all about. They seemed to include a combination of pictures and Native American pictograms. When Keith walked along the wall, he realized that they were neither isolated images, nor parts of a whole: they seemed to be stages of a story. He had to use his imagination to understand the plot, and even then he was not sure if he was interpreting correctly. He found the same kind of progression in the other caves. At first he thought it was the same story—maybe a kind of rough draft—but its content turned out to be slightly different.

The picture-stories focused on a lion—it seemed to be a single lion in each story. They indicated that was the same color as the sky and water. Or that it came from the sky, like rain. Or that it had something to do with water. There were also symbols for days, nights, and seasons, indications of time passing. They were organized systematically, almost like a timeline or a calendar.

At the library, Keith researched traditional stories about lions, wondering how these murals compared to them. He learned a lot about mythology and folk tales in this way. He knew there was a lion constellation, but now he looked into the Greek myths behind it. Aesop had a fable about a mouse saving a lion from hunters by chewing through the net that had trapped it.

There were several Judeo-Christian metaphors concerning lions. It was the symbol of the Tribe of Judah, and for that reason various places and groups had adopted it throughout history. Keith had heard of "Daniel in the lions' den" but never read the full story until now. Saint Mark's symbol was a winged lion, because the gospel he wrote began with John the Baptist "crying out in the wilderness" like a wild animal. Keith felt a spasm of empathy when he read about the man living alone in the desert, rejected by the authorities in his profession. Except that John was not always alone. Crowds of people came to see him. No one came to see Keith.

These stories and trivia were vaguely interesting, and helped to distract Keith from the stress, grief, and listlessness that stalked him; but none of them seemed to match the stories of the lion carvings.

Deciphering the calendar took weeks of research and comparison, and dozens of trips between Keith's house, the caverns, and the closest libraries he could find. He would not have been surprised if the librarians banded together and raided his house for overdue books and fines. To keep himself from getting banned or losing his borrowing privileges, he tried to take notes and bring them home. He took paper wherever he could find a free supply—the backs of receipts, cardboard from food packaging, napkins and place mats at restaurants—to take notes. He picked up pens and pencils he found on the ground and at the library.

At home, he shifted the materials on his large bulletin board, taking down old posters and photographs to make room in which to organize his findings. He found tacks and bits of string and tried to map out the connections between different pieces of evidence. He felt almost childish, like a kid playing detective, but it was not a game to him. A challenge, yes, but not a game, because the things he was investigating were real, and the conclusions he came to were a little frightening.

As he made progress, he became more convinced that the carvings were not simply stories of the past. There were also predictions of the future. Like the Mesoamericans predicting the end of an era, whoever made the carvings left clues pointing to a significant yet unspecified event.

When Keith finally cracked the calendar, he found that the date corresponded to the second day of the coming month.

At this point, Keith wondered if the whole thing was a giant hoax. Maybe the reason there was no information about this site was because it wasn't as old as it seemed. Maybe it had been used for a prank or a movie. But if so, there should be some record of that, in newspapers or some kind of record system. He could find none. Either he was going crazy, or he had found something truly extraordinary.

What could he do? What _should_ he do? How did one prepare for the unknown, the unpredictable? Should he warn people? Who would believe him?

Even if Keith was right in his interpretation, the stories of the past and predictions of the future could be false. The stories could be fictional or mythical, preserving cultural rather than historical truths.

Keith was surprised to find that some part of him _wanted_ it to be true, to be pointing toward something. It would be a shame if he had done all this work for nothing. Yet the unknown brought a great sense of apprehension. Would the event and any changes it caused be for good or for ill?

The only sensible thing he could think to do was wait and watch.

* * *

Author's Note: I have a poll on my profile to determine the title of a story I'm working on, which I will begin posting after the cartoon ends.


	10. Expecting the Unexpected

_Published November 30, 2017_

"Expecting the Unexpected"

* * *

Stars are beautiful, but they may not take an active part in anything, they must just look on for ever. It is a punishment put on them for something they did so long ago that no star now knows what it was. So the older ones have become glassy-eyed and seldom speak (winking is the star language), but the little ones still wonder. They are not really friendly to Peter, who had a mischievous way of stealing up behind them and trying to blow them out; but they are so fond of fun that they were on his side to-night, and anxious to get the grown-ups out of the way. So as soon as the door of 27 closed on Mr. and Mrs. Darling there was a commotion in the firmament, and the smallest of all the stars in the Milky Way screamed out:

"Now, Peter!"

~ J. M. Barrie, _Peter Pan_

* * *

Keith was not certain where the event would take place, but whoever had made those carvings had based the astronomical calendar on their present location on Earth, so it would make sense for it to happen close to the cavern. He knew he would not sleep that night, probably should not.

Keith wondered if this was how prophets felt in the days leading up to the dates of predicted events: tense, excited, apprehensive, foreboding, afraid. It was hard to know how to feel, when both the fact and the nature of the event was in question.

What if _nothing_ happened? Somehow Keith knew he would be disappointed if it turned out all his work had been groundless and fruitless. It would mean wasted time and wasted hopes—just like most of the good things that happened to him.

Maybe it was foolish to believe something was going to happen; but it seemed even more foolish to ignore all the signs pointing toward a momentous event. So Keith spent the preceding day getting ready, though he was not entirely sure how to do so.

He refueled and recharged his hoverbike and left it close enough to the front porch that he would be able to leap on it at a moment's notice if necessary. He took an inventory on all his supplies and made sure he had enough food and water to last a few days by himself or a shorter period with guests. It almost felt like preparing for an apocalypse, which made Keith wonder if he really was going crazy. While he worked, he listened to the radio for any unusual news bulletins, and continually checked the sky.

As the sun set and the stars became visible, Keith began his vigil. He planned to watch the skies more attentively than ever before (which was saying something, considering he had spent years aspiring to become an astronaut). He would stay awake all night, eating high-calorie snacks and sipping energy drinks to keep himself awake and alert. He would note every moving object in the sky, both aircraft and shooting stars.

He did not have to wait long. It was still only twilight when he saw the flying object. Its trajectory was not across a stretch of sky the way that of a shooting star, a ship en route, or a satellite in orbit would have been. The atmosphere around it glowed and seemed to be getting bigger and brighter, as though the object was approaching Earth.

Keith watched through his binoculars as the UFO came closer to Earth. It seemed to be a ship, but it did not look like one built by the Galaxy Garrison or any other known organization. He could tell from the changing colors that it was entering the atmosphere. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped Keith as he watched, breathless. He noted the cardinal direction in which it seemed bound to land, and realized it was in the same direction as the Garrison. Less than a minute after its appearance, he lost sight of it as it went below the peaks of the mountains on the horizon.

It had happened. Something—or possibly someone—had arrived.

Keith had never wanted to entertain the idea of aliens—he knew he was already enough of a conspiracy theorist without going that far—but now it seemed a plausible possibility. Either that, or some secret organization had made its own ships and sent them into space without the public's knowledge.

And for this to have happened less than a year after the Kerberos mission's crew disappeared … could it have something to do with them? Had they survived and found a way home? Keith was afraid to let himself hope for what he really wanted.

Keith did not know if the Garrison had been anticipating something like this, but now that it had happened, it would not be long before they got to the site of the crash. He would have to act fast. If he could not beat them to it, he would have to create a diversion to draw them away.

He loaded all his pyrotechnic equipment onto his hoverbike, which he brought to full speed, heading in the direction of the crash. He knew full well what anyone would think if they saw him now. They would consider him a madman, not just a conspiracy theorist but a menace. There was something almost satisfying about that idea. Maybe he would be arrested, then imprisoned or executed. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad, if this turned out not to be what he was consciously or unconsciously hoping it was.

He found the crash site after the Garrison had already arrived. They were in the process of recovering the vehicle, and had set up a temporary building. Keith's extensive trips around the desert enabled him to find a good vantage point to watch them without being seen. He had to get inside and see what they had found; and on top of that, now was his chance to make fools of the Garrison.

Moving quickly on foot, he set up a string of explosives, then detonated them remotely so he could move in while the Garrison goons headed toward the explosions. They did not even leave guards in place, so Keith was able to enter undeterred.

Once inside the main room, the officers' medical equipment and hazardous materials suits revealed that the building was a hospital. Someone lay strapped to a gurney in the center of the room.

Keith knew they probably had the right stuff to knock him out, and then there would likely be no escape for him. So he attacked them first, knocking each of them to the floor before leaping over them to look at the gurney.

A tall, muscular man in dark purple clothes lay strapped to the table, unmoving. Keith pulled his bandana down from his mouth, leaned over, and turned the man's head toward him so he could see his face.

It was Shiro.

There was no mistaking him, yet he looked different: his skin was paler, a scar ran across his nose, and his bangs were white. He looked older, but only as much as someone who had gone through trauma, not as though there had been any weird time differences like in science fiction.

Through his shock, Keith knew he did not have time to rejoice or puzzle over Shiro's return. He had to get Shiro away from the Garrison, if they were going to keep him locked up like a criminal. The Garrison had separated Shiro from him before; Keith would not let them do so again.

He pulled out his knife and cut Shiro free, but before he could carry him out, another teenager barged in, flanked by two others, announcing _he_ was there to save Shiro.

Keith had thought he was at maximum bewilderment, but this topped it. Who else would want to save Shiro? Who else could have known that Shiro was there and needed to be rescued?

The guy looked at him as though the answer was obvious. "Uh, the name's Lance?" When Keith did not respond, he pressed, "We were in the same class at the Garrison?"

It had been so long since he thought about his time at the Garrison, and Keith had so much on his mind tonight, that he could not immediately place this Lance guy in his memory.

Keith was not thrilled about having company, but he had no reason to reject help when it was offered. If these kids had both the ability and the desire to break into a high-security Garrison facility, they must have competent skills or pertinent information. And now they were also in trouble, crossing the line into criminal activity, so he could not very well leave them behind as the Garrison goons were returning from the explosion site. But they also added extra weight to his hoverbike, which was now their only means of escape.

Keith gained confidence as they flew down the treacherous terrain he had traveled over the past months. He knew this vehicle and these routes; he had made dangerous jumps across ravines and over cliffs before. He needed to adjust his movements and momentum for the extra weight of four passengers, but he knew he could manage it.

"What are you doing? You're gonna kill us all!"

"Shut up and trust me!"

They had asked him to provide a ride and get them out of the situation. If they did not like the way he did so, too bad for them.

Keith took a roundabout route back to his shack, hoping to throw them further off his trail. It was a good thing they did not already know where he lived: he and the other renegade Garrison cadets could lie low there while they waited for Shiro to wake up.

As uncertain as the situation was, and as apprehensive as he felt, Keith could not help also feeling satisfied. His research had paid off. He had been ready to act, and was still ready to act if necessary. Now he had his best friend, and three new acquaintances: four wild cards in the insane but thrilling adventure that his life was turning out to be.

* * *

Author's Note: To tell the truth, I'm not crazy about "The Rise of Voltron," because its pacing is extremely fast and chaotic, throwing out information and action sequences with hardly any time to process them. But every time I watch it, I gain new insights into both it and the show as a whole. Like how Keith's piloting the group while Shiro was indisposed foreshadowed the reckless leadership style he would exhibit when Shiro went missing.


	11. Old Friends and New Teammates

_Published January 30, 2018_

"Old Friends and New Teammates"

* * *

Yet speak to me! I have outwatch'd the stars,

And gazed o'er heaven in vain in search of thee.

~ Lord Byron, _Manfred_ , Act 2, Scene 4, lines 142-143

* * *

Keith was not happy about having to share Shiro's newly-restored company and his own long-secret findings with these other kids. But they already knew a bit about that night's strange events—apparently the youngest one, Pidge, had been anticipating something based on secret research—and they were determined to talk to Shiro when he awoke. They might have information that Keith still lacked. The investigation, he now saw, was not over; it was only beginning.

Besides, now that the three cadets had run away from the Galaxy Garrison and helped to rescue (or kidnap) someone in its custody, they were technically fugitives. Keith, too, had crossed the line from recluse to outlaw, but that didn't matter to him. Having Shiro back was more than worth it.

After making Shiro comfortable, Keith scrounged up some clean clothes for him. Lance and Pidge dozed while the big guy, Hunk, helped himself to some of Keith's rations. It was a good thing he had stocked up.

Keith stayed by Shiro's bed until the sedative wore off, so the first face Shiro saw would be a familiar one. Keith knew they would both have a million questions to ask each other.

Shiro was understandably distressed when he awoke. Keith did his best to soothe him. He did not touch him, since the last people to do that when Shiro was awake had strapped him to a table. "Shiro? It's me, Keith."

Shiro rose up on his elbows. "Keith?" There was confusion in his eyes, but also recognition, which Keith found reassuring. Shiro remembered him. No matter what had happened to him over the past year, what had changed, they still had a shared past. Now Keith offered a hand, which Shiro accepted tentatively, as though unsure it was real. When he found he could touch him, he squeezed Keith's hand so hard it hurt, but Keith did not protest, merely squeezed in return. "Man, it's … it's good to see you."

"You too." Keith's voice was choked. "I'm … really glad you're okay."

Talk about understatements.

Sitting up fully, Shiro looked around the tiny room. "Is this your place?"

"Yeah."

"How did I get here?"

"I found you in a Garrison hospital. Some other kids helped me get you out. We came here on my hoverbike."

Shiro hesitated, turning a question over in his mind before daring to voice it. "How long has it been?"

Keith paused, uncertain. "Since you were unconscious? I don't know … more than half the night."

"No, I mean … since I was last on Earth?"

This was the detail that would probably be the hardest for Shiro to grapple with. "You and the Holts went missing a year ago, after spending six months in space."

Shiro was silent, contemplating this. He did not look surprised, but rather as though something bad he had suspected had been confirmed.

Keith put off his own questions so Shiro could process everything. It would be easier to catch up once Shiro wrapped his mind around the situation. Keith gave him the clothes, showed him the bathroom, and told the other kids to wait a while before talking to him.

Shiro came out looking fresher but still mystified. He went outside, where the sun was rising over the desert—the first Earth sunrise he had seen in over a year. Keith watched from the house until the sun was high enough in the sky that the more brilliant colors had faded. Then he went outside approached Shiro, and finally posed the crucial questions.

"So, what happened out there? Where were you?"

Shiro could remember little and seemed to reveal even less. Then he asked Keith how he had known to come and rescue him. It was finally time to share his findings, though his explanations seemed inadequate for describing how interconnected everything was. Shiro did not compliment him, and the younger cadets did not criticize him. They all seemed just as amazed, though not incredulous, as the elder ones. The one thing Shiro remembered that coincided with Pidge's research was a name: Voltron.

The three ex-students turned out to be useful. Pidge had data about the aliens, and Hunk, looking at it with a fresh mind, noticed patterns she had missed, and said he could figure out how to make a device like Geiger-counter to find the element that the aliens were seeking. They found the right tools to make such a machine among Pidge's belongings and Keith's hand-me-down lab equipment.

It did not take long for Hunk to assemble the tracker, and the five of them agreed to test it out immediately, since they did not know how much time they had before the aliens arrived. Not knowing how long it might be before they were able to return, Keith locked everything up as best as he could, though he knew the Galaxy Garrison could easily force their way inside if they bothered to come out this far. Keith considered bringing his research, in case they needed it, but he reasoned that most of it had come to a head last night, and Pidge and Hunk were working with his most important data. The rest could be left behind. All he really needed was his knife, since it was his best tool, his favorite weapon, and the only item of sentimental value he owned.

He was not surprised when Hunk and Pidge's Voltron-tracking device led them to the caverns with the lion carvings. He _was_ surprised when Lance's touch caused them to glow, something they had never done in all the times Keith had touched them. In all the time Keith had been hoping to make a groundbreaking discovery, he had never expected the ground to literally break open to reveal one. Nor did he expect the stories of the Blue Lion to be pointing to an actual, blue-colored, lion-shaped machine.

Lance was proving to be the most impulsive, easygoing, cocksure person Keith had ever met. Touching the carvings, touching the forcefield, entering the Blue Lion like he was entitled to enter the freaking Cave of Wonders. He acted nonchalant and confident when he really had no idea what he was doing. He just went along with whatever idea entered his head—even when the ideas came from a sentient alien vehicle.

Being Lance's passenger in the Blue Lion was worse than any simulation Keith had participated in at the Garrison. When Lance flippantly admitted that he always wrecked the simulator, Keith seriously doubted they would survive this flight (if a haphazard ride in a mechanical lion could be called a flight).

Lance did not bother to ask the others if they were comfortable with leaving Earth. Before they knew it, they had left not only the crust but the atmosphere, and then were facing off with an alien warship. It looked completely different from the Blue Lion, even though both were equipped with flight and firepower.

Keith had never heard Shiro sound so afraid as when he whispered, "They found me." Such a reaction from the person he trusted and respected the most scared Keith just as much as the situation itself.

Somehow Lance managed to outmaneuver the alien ship and draw it away from Earth. But where could they lead it to? And what would happen if it caught up? They could not keep fleeing it indefinitely, especially when they did not know where they were going. Shiro was the only one who had been in space before, and he could not remember anything beyond Kerberos, which they quickly passed by. Apparently alien space transportation was many times faster than Earth's.

Then they faced another unexpected development: a portal, or wormhole, opened in front of them. Now Lance finally showed some hesitation and deferred to Shiro, the most senior officer among them. Shiro had not explicitly complained about Lance's risky actions, perhaps because the situation was so bizarre and unorthodox. Shiro did what Keith had always known him to do: he voiced his own opinion (in this case, that they should trust the Blue Lion), but then looked to the others for a consensus, stating they were now a team.

Keith had never been part of a team in such a serious situation. He was not sure he trusted these new "teammates," but he trusted Shiro's judgment. It seemed that these other kids did too, which was good because Shiro possessed the most knowledge and experience of the world they were entering. Lance assented, muttering darkly about how they would have to ditch school, and brought them another immeasurable step further from Earth.


	12. Reclaiming a Legacy

_Published April 11, 2018  
Takes place during "The Rise of Voltron"_

"Reclaiming a Legacy"

* * *

The eyes are not here  
There are no eyes here  
In this valley of dying stars  
In this hollow valley  
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

~ T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men"

* * *

The vision (or whatever it was) they saw when Lance touched the Blue Lion's force field showed five lions. As they approached the planet closest to the wormhole exit, Keith wondered if the lion was leading them to another of its companions, dormant in a similar hiding place.

The castle they found was a far cry from the desert caves. No crude pictures carved into the natural environment or hidden out of sight. The edifice was pristine and ostentatious, made of materials foreign to the landscape. It looked more technologically advanced than any building on Earth.

Instead of an ostensibly sentient mechanical lion, they found two intelligent humanoid creatures dormant inside. They looked like people—humans, _homo sapiens_. Keith had to remind himself that they were aliens. Then again, the five Earthlings were the newcomers on this planet. Maybe they ought not even use the word _alien_ anymore, when it was becoming increasingly clear that the scale of this situation expanded several galaxies and included multiple sentient life forms.

Apparently this planet was not the original home of the Blue Lion or the castle's two lone inhabitants. Allura and Coran spoke of a planet and entire solar system that had been destroyed. Keith could relate to losing parents and being jerked out of a home, but that paled in comparison to losing one's entire planet. Allura and Coran's loss impressed upon the Earthlings how great a threat the aliens were who had imprisoned Shiro and now sought Voltron.

It was only when they learned that the Galra had targeted them that Allura finally stopped her own research and gave the Earthlings some answers. She explained how the five lions required pilots of varying abilities and personalities, and how the individual vehicles came together to form one robot, Voltron.

Keith did not like being left behind in a strange place with people he had just met, but he saw the necessity of it. Hunk and Pidge needed to go to their lions. It was just like Shiro to want to look out for the youngest or smallest in a group, in this case Pidge. Coran's cheerful words about the possibility of the space travelers getting stranded on their lions' respective planets startled Keith as well as the other four. What if he was left behind on this planet with only the two Alteans? What if he lost Shiro again just after finding him? What if he never went back to Earth?

Keith did not voice these concerns, knowing how childish they would sound. He had to get over such anxieties if he was going to be of any help to this strange team. It was not Coran's fault that the danger was so great, or that they had so little time and resources.

As soon as the parties split up, the Alteans threw themselves into their work. Allura tried to scan the universe for the Red Lion, the one that Keith would pilot. Meanwhile Coran went about restoring the castle's basic defensive technology. Keith asked if he could help either of them, but since he lacked Allura's abilities and Coran's knowledge of Altean technology, he was relatively useless.

"No." At first Allura said the word in a dismayed whisper; then she repeated in growing agitation bordering on something much stronger—anger, or despair. "No, no, _no!_ "

Keith and Coran both came over to her. "What is it, Princess?" Coran asked urgently.

"The Red Lion is on a Galra ship—the same one that locked onto us."

Coran's face fell. Keith was slower to understand, weighing the good and bad. "So instead of going out to find it, it's on its way to us," he said. Now a confrontation with these aliens seemed utterly inevitable.

"The Red Lion belonged to my father." Anger filled Allura's eyes again, flaring up like twin blue flames. "And now Zarkon has it."

Keith did not know what it was like to be related to someone with such a huge legacy, but he understood well the desire to protect something that belonged to one's parent. "We'll get it back," he promised, feeling less resigned and more determined.

Shiro and the other teenagers returned with the Green and Yellow Lions right before the commander of the Galra ship contacted them with a threat. As soon as the message was cut off, panic and argument ensued. Keith sided with Pidge, who insisted that they must stand up to the Galra in order to stop them from attacking more planets. Shiro, the most mature and levelheaded of the Earthlings, deferred to Princess Allura, the one who had wanted to find the lions and use them to fight the Galra in the first place. But she seemed lost.

It was Coran who presented a possible solution, seeking advice from Allura's dead father. For a moment Keith wondered if her ostensibly supernatural powers included communicating with the dead; but apparently it was a matter of science, ancient yet advanced far beyond Earth's technology.

While Pidge and Hunk talked about the technology used to preserve King Alfor's memories, Keith wondered what it would be like to be able to speak to one of his parents, even if it was an artificial version of them. Would it be worthwhile to talk to them when they were not really there, only a projection?

When Allura returned to the bridge, she had switched from her elegant dress to an athletic suit and put her long hair up in a bun. Her fear and uncertainty were gone, replaced by resolve and conviction. Keith was not sure he believed what she said about destiny, but the stakes were just as she said: they were the universe's only hope against the spread of the Galra's tyranny, and they had to start fighting it here and now.

Allura and Coran showed the Earthlings the old paladins' suits of armor, color coordinated to match their respective lions. There were also four tools called bayards, which morphed into different weapons for each paladin.

When Keith picked up the red bayard, it turned into a strangely-shaped red sword. Keith had handled swords a few times on Earth, when he had opportunities to try sports like fencing. Once, he had almost gotten kicked out of a museum for trying to touch some antique swords. This bayard had to be handled differently, but the high-tech material made up for its unwieldiness.

It was strange that Lance and Hunk, the most outgoing members of their little band, were outfitted with long-range weapons, while Keith and Pidge, the most reserved members, had weapons that required proximity and direct contact. Shiro was the only one without a bayard, as Allura told them it had been lost with its previous paladin, but Shiro shrugged it off with a smile, saying he would make do. It was just like him to say something like that.

Pidge and Lance assumed Keith would be able to find the Red Lion without difficulty, since he had felt the Blue Lion's energy on Earth. Keith did not expect it to be so easy. He had felt the energy without trying to; he doubted he could find it deliberately. Allura also cautioned him that the Red Lion was more temperamental than the others, and that he would need to earn its trust.

Shiro, Keith, and Pidge managed to sneak aboard while Lance and Hunk had Sendak's attention, but entering the Galra ship, the same kind of environment Shiro had so recently escaped, triggered another flashback in Shiro's recovering mind. Keith worried this might be too much for him to handle. But Shiro was determined to carry on, even though it was hard for him to pass up the chance to look for the Holts.

It was Pidge who stopped them by revealed something that startled both Keith and Shiro. "Commander Holt is my father. He and my brother were the ones on the Kerberos mission with you."

Keith was taken aback. He had seen some resemblance between Matt and Pidge, but thought it a coincidence. He didn't remember another son being mentioned in any of the news coverage relating to the Kerberos Mission. He did not have time to think it through, as suddenly Shiro changed his mind, offering to go with Pidge and insisting that Keith continue the mission alone.

A new wave of anxiety swelled inside Keith. Shiro was about to go back into the prison he had just escaped, and Keith was going to be alone again, this time in enemy territory.

Shiro's words were reassuring even if his tone was brisk. "You'll be fine. Just remember, patience yields focus." There was not time to exchange further arguments or advice, as they heard someone approaching from around the corner. They ran in opposite directions.

Keith stopped at the end of the corridor, which then branched off left and right, before a door bearing a purple insignia that seemed vaguely shaped like a skull. The color, glow, and style of the insignia reminded Keith of the one on his knife. He kept that part hidden under cloth wrappings, as his father had, presumably to keep the stone or whatever it was in good condition. The resemblance was puzzling, but probably just a coincidence, and Keith did not have time to dwell on it. For now it only mattered as a landmark.

Why would Shiro instruct him in patience when they were in such a hurry? Yet running around, literally going in circles, was not going to help. He arrived at the same door where he had began his search. After scowling and grumbling, he took a deep breath and repeated Shiro's words. _"Patience yields focus."_

 _Don't rush. Focus. Think. Feel._

Once his mind and body were a bit calmer, he felt something like the energy he had sensed in the desert. This time, knowing what he was looking for, he could actually visualize his target and the path that would lead to it. Feeling pleased for the first time that day, Keith turned around and followed his in

The room that held the Red Lion was surprisingly easy to enter. Inside, it was still surrounded by its forcefield. Keith expected the barrier to dissolve when he touched it, just as the Blue Lion's had done when Lance touched it; but the particle barrier remained solid.

Allura had said he would need to earn its trust, but he had thought that would begin when he boarded it. Why would it ignore the opportunity to escape? Keith had not shunned the other paladins when they first met. They did not have time to communicate, either verbally or telepathically, as several sentries entered and began firing their weapons at Keith. He activated the shield from his Altean armor and shouted over his shoulder at the Lion. "I'm bonding with you!" Keith had sometimes thought those words, in reference to other people, but he had never spoken them aloud. They were not needed in situations when they would ring true. When people bonded, they were aware of it, and did not need to be told that it was happening. Keith activated his bayard, determined to protect the Lion, even if it was indifferent to him. Maybe protecting it would prove his trustworthiness.

He found out how sharp his sword was, when it cut cleanly through a robot sentry. He managed to cut down two, but three more knocked him down with their blaster shots. He fell in front of a control panel. While he could not read the labels on the screen, he could guess what the biggest button was for. So he did what he usually did in a dangerous situation: he took an even greater risk. He closed his helmet and pressed the largest button. As he had expected, the hangar doors opened—right underneath the sentries. Keith managed to grab hold of the control panel, so he neither fell nor was sucked into the vacuum of space. But the vacuum pulled other things in the room, and some of the metal debris hit Keith, knocking his hands off the control panel.

For a few moments, he spun uncontrollably through space. It was far more frightening than the Garrison's zero-gravity simulations. There had been times in Keith's life when he felt as though he had absolutely no control over his circumstances, but now he was feeling that more literally than ever.

Just when he was wondering if someone else would be able to save him, he saw the Red Lion coming up in front of him, opening its jaws to catch him. Apparently it could fly on its own, without a pilot, if its paladin was in danger. Maybe the Red Lion was like Keith himself: slow to trust, but quick to rescue, defend, and attack in order to protect others.

The four operative lions carried the five Earthlings back to the Castle. Shiro was the only one who got out, disembarking the Green Lion so he could face the Black Lion, the one meant for him. The other four lions faced it, positioned the way Allura said they should be in order to awaken their head.

Keith knew this moment meant more to Allura and Shiro than anyone else present. All Allura wanted was to continue her father's legacy of protecting the universe; and after everything Shiro had suffered, having this new role as a pilot and a leader would give him a sense of purpose. Their hopes were not disappointed: the Black Lion stood and roared, and the four smaller lions roared in reply.

There was no time to celebrate or even do much to prepare: Sendak was attacking, and they needed to fight back now.

Bonding under so much pressure seemed impossible. They had no idea how to combine them into a single entity. Before they could figure it out, Sendak's ship locked a tractor beam onto the five of them.

So this was how it was going to end. They had been quick and clever enough to evade their home planet's best military and scientific powers, but not these aliens. They would probably go to a jail far worse than any on Earth, or suffer the same kind of torture Shiro had been subjected to.

And yet, Keith did not regret anything that he had done in the past day. For a little while, he had felt like part of a team, something he had never experienced before.

"It's been an honor flying with you boys," he said over the younger teens' shouts of fear and dismay.

After a moment of silence that held more despair than any noise, Shiro's voice suddenly exclaimed over the radio: Keith had heard Shiro give inspirational pep talks in the past, but never with such intensity. There was no ideal or ideology, not even much logic in his words, just a blazing, contagious determination. If Shiro could believe and feel that way after everything he had suffered, they _must_ have a chance. Heck, the fact that Shiro was alive and had returned to Earth defied the odds! They were together, and they had more power than they had ever imagined they could possess. They could, they _would_ win this fight!

With these kinds of thoughts running through their heads, it happened.

Keith still felt connected to the Red Lion, and knew he had some control over it, but the two of them were no longer an independent unit; they were connected to something larger than themselves. Keith could sense Shiro leading them, and felt ready to follow his command. They destroyed the Galra ship in mere minutes.

Disassembling Voltron proved much easier than forming it. They parked their lions just outside the castle, and Allura and Coran ran out to thank and congratulate them. Keith almost felt the way he did after a particularly challenging or strenuous task: tired but exhilarated, ready to rest but already wondering when he could do it again. Allura and Coran were convinced they would need to form Voltron many more times in the future.

It was Shiro who smiled first after hearing this. "Defenders of the universe, huh? That's got a nice ring to it."

They were a strange group: two aristocrats from a bygone age; an amnesiac; a military school dropout; and three teenage runaways. But the universe had brought them together and enabled them to find and reunite the five Lions of Voltron. They may not know exactly what they were doing, but they felt increasingly confident that they could figure it out if they worked together.


	13. Brothers in Arms

_Published June 2, 2018  
Takes place during and after "Some Assembly Required"_

"Brothers in Arms"

* * *

Men go abroad to admire the heights of mountains, the mighty waves of the sea, the broad tides of rivers, the compass of the ocean, and the circuits of the stars, yet pass over the mystery of themselves without a thought. – Saint Augustine, _Confessions_

* * *

"It's funny," Shiro said to Keith at one point, as they were settling into the castle and training to work as a team. "I hoped you'd be my right-hand man someday. Now you're literally and figuratively my right hand."

Keith returned his friend's smile, but when Shiro's eyes left him, he could not help looking down from Shiro's face to his actual right hand, or what passed for it: Galra technology. Pidge and Hunk had offered to examine it, with the aim of seeing whether it could be removed or replaced. Coran had even offered to help, since he was somewhat familiar with Galra technology, even if his knowledge might be ten millennia outdated. But Shiro had turned these offers down. He did not like his prosthetic, a souvenir of his time as a prisoner, evidence of tortures he could not remember; but he needed two hands in order to fight on the ground and pilot the Black Lion, so he seemed to accept it as a necessary evil.

For Keith, the prosthetic was a visual reminder of how much change Shiro had experienced. Shiro's personality was basically the same, but his positive traits had been … not changed, but strengthened, for the most part. He had always been fair-minded, looking out for people. But he needed someone to look out for him, too, even if he did not realize it. For the first time in their friendship, Keith felt as though Shiro actually needed him, and he became determined to be there for him.

Through training and missions alike, Keith made an effort to look out for Shiro the way Shiro had looked out for him years before. Overall, Shiro seemed okay, but no one could go through something as horrific as his experience with the Galra and come through completely unaffected. Keith worried most of all about Shiro's amnesia and panic attacks. Every now and then, something Shiro saw or did triggered a flashback, distracting him from the present situation, which was really bad when the present situation was dangerous and required focus.

Aside from the training itself, the hardest part for Keith was learning how to connect with other people, something he had never been good at. Before they could spread peace among aliens, they had to learn how to operate as a team.

Lance and Hunk seemed to get along with everyone (the only exception being Lance's weird competitive streak against Keith). Sometimes they were goofier than a situation warranted, but their good spirits kept the group buoyed. Pidge was smart and self-sufficient, not intentionally irritating like Lance or high-maintenance like Hunk. But when the paladins had time to themselves, Pidge seemed to prefer to be alone, or just with the repurposed Galra droid picked up from Sendak's ship.

After they had formed Voltron for the first time, Shiro had explained to the others that Pidge's relatives had been abducted with him and were still missing.

"Pidge never mentioned having a brother," Hunk said, amazed and sad to learn this.

"He hardly ever mentioned _anything_ about himself," Lance reminded him, a little resentment in his tone.

Keith glanced at Shiro. "I didn't know _Matt_ had a brother."

An odd expression clouded Shiro's face. For a moment Keith thought he was going to say something crazy like, "He doesn't." What he said instead was, "Neither did I."

This didn't make sense to Keith. How could Shiro not have known, after spending so much time with the Holts? Surely he would have met the whole family on Earth, and heard about them while talking with Sam and Matt during the mission? Keith had been at the launch site when the astronauts and their families got to take pictures there. He remembered seeing the Holt family from a distance while Shiro showed him around. Shiro had offered to introduce him to them, but Keith had declined, thinking they would be too wrapped up in their own goodbyes, and Matt too excited about his first trip to space, to care much about meeting someone who was going to stay on Earth. Keith did not remember seeing anyone who could have been Matt's brother, just a woman he took to be Mrs. Holt and a girl in a dress who might have been Matt's sister.

Keith was startled by the idea that occurred to him, yet not shocked. On first meeting Pidge, he had not been completely certain of the kid's gender. The others had always referred to Pidge with male pronouns, so Keith had assumed that Pidge was a boy, attributing the kid's small stature and neither-male-nor-female voice to not having hit puberty.

His suspicion was strengthened when they tried the mind-melding exercise. Even though they only did it for a short time, they got to know each other a little better by seeing the general content of each teammate's thoughts.

Unsurprisingly, Hunk's favorite thing to think about was food, how to prepare it and make it enjoyable for people. The main focus of Lance's thoughts was his family, apparently numerous and diverse in members. He was kind of melancholy about having left them. Keith did not miss anyone on Earth, but he did miss his house in the desert. As lonely as it had been there, it had been peaceful. It was more home to him than any other place. Shiro's thoughts centered on the Garrison, not as an institution but as a place where he had trained to be an explorer and a leader.

Pidge was trying very hard to keep certain thoughts private, but one that resurfaced was the photograph Hunk had found and said was of Pidge and his girlfriend. When they had almost mentally formed Voltron, that image came back, and the other paladins' complaints drove Pidge to almost throw a tantrum.

Keith had not seen the image up close, and could not see Pidge's memory in total clarity, but now he suspected that Pidge was not the boy in the Galaxy Garrison uniform. The cadet could be Matt, and the girl … might be Pidge.

He did not have time to think about this, though, as Allura found them taking a break and insisted on throwing them a new challenge: the gladiator. That proved to be just another disaster. Shiro, who had been competent at every other training exercise that day, froze up as though having a flashback, and Keith had to intervene to stop the robot from hurting him.

By the time they sat down for dinner, they were exhausted and famished, wanting nothing more than to eat and rest. But Coran pulled another trick out of his sleeve, activating high-tech handcuffs and telling the paladins to feed each other.

It was the last straw. The tempers they had all kept at bay finally flared; Pidge even went so far as to question and deride Allura's status as a princess. Maybe that was crossing a line, since Allura had lost the people whose princess she had been. At any rate, Pidge's words prompted the last action any of them would have expected from the dignified Altean female: she catapulted a scoop of food goo with her spoon, and the green stuff hit Pidge's face. Apparently the princess was not afraid to play dirty—literally.

Keith knew what Pidge was feeling, having felt that kind of indignant rage many times in his life, and he wanted to help her retaliate. "Go loose, Pidge!" He used his right hand, cuffed to her left, to fling a plate of goo at Allura; but Coran blocked it. Perhaps he had deflected other oncoming projectiles from the princess in the past; he managed to shield her and splatter Keith and the others in return.

It was not Keith's first food fight. He had been in a few, and perhaps started one or two, throughout his school years. This, however, was the first time he participated in one with clearly drawn lines between opponents. Instead of a free-for-all, or just certain individuals attacking or retaliating at each other, there were two sides targeting each other. Keith moved his arm in sync with Pidge's on one side and Lance's on the other. The fight was very short, since the food goo was in limited supply, but it was the most fun, satisfying thing any of the Earthlings had done in several days, or perhaps even longer. When it was over, the paladins looked at each other, covered in green goo, and simultaneously burst out laughing.

After that experience of working together, they were able to form Voltron at will. The head was for making decisions and directing the limbs. They soon came to better understand the role that each lion played in the body of Voltron. The legs were meant to be rooted, steady. The right arm was for strength and attacking. The left arm was for exploring and defending. In a way, both arms were meant for testing and pushing against limits.

The new sense of unity made Hunk sentimental. "I just want you to know that I realized when we were in Voltron, we're brothers, man." He pulled Lance and Keith into a hug on either side of him, making Keith distinctly uncomfortable. "You know? Like, we're totally connected. No secrets, no barriers, no nothing. Brothers all the way." He looked around fondly at the four of them. "I love you guys."

That effusion of physical and verbal affection was a bit much for Keith to swallow. For one thing, he was pretty sure Pidge had a secret. For another, Shiro was the only one he truly thought of as a brother. He didn't know the other three well enough. But maybe that would change, the longer they worked together.


	14. The Only Left

_Published June 21, 2018_

 _Takes place from "Return of the Gladiator" to "Taking Flight"_

"The Only Left"

* * *

"Why, I danced and laughed only yesterday!" she went on to herself. "To think that I was such a fool!"

"'Tis because we be on a blighted star, and not a sound one, isn't it, Tess?" murmured Abraham through his tears.

In silence they waited through an interval which seemed endless.

~ Thomas Hardy, _Tess of the D'Urbervilles_

* * *

Keith did not trust people easily. First, the fact that his mother left him had made him aware of how tenuous human relationships could be. Then his years of being shunted between different foster homes, group homes, and school districts showed him that even well-meaning people with good intentions could, and frequently would, let you down.

His wariness of strangers came through when they had their first visitors, some midget-sized Arusian aliens. Keith's defensive reaction to a warrior armed with a weapon clashed with Allura's tendency toward diplomacy. Keith had not known that was supposed to be among a paladin's duties. He had signed up to be a soldier, a warrior, not a peacemaker. He wanted to help end the war, but he was better at starting fights than negotiating peace.

Though Keith had almost felt a budding sense of optimism about the team's dynamics, it died when Pidge announced her intention to leave, putting the search for her blood family before anything else. Keith felt betrayed, for the first time since his falling out with the Garrison. It wasn't a personal betrayal—it did not really matter whether Pidge cared about them as individuals—but it seemed to him that Pidge was turning her back on their mission, on the universe that needed them to be paladins.

Pidge was smart, a certifiable genius. Didn't she know the principle of the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few? Didn't she realize that the best way to help _all_ their families was to help the universe as a whole?

"You're not the only one with a family. All these Arusians have families. Everyone in the universe has a family!" Keith was not certain whether this applied to him—he had no idea whether his mother or any of her kin were alive—but seeing the Arusian village, and protecting it from the strange Galra robot beast, had made him realize he wanted to prevent other people from losing their family members.

When Hunk started to express similarly self-centered concerns, Keith's temper got the better of him, and he started to shout just how selfish Pidge was being, but Shiro pulled him back. "That's not how a team works," Shiro told him, calm but firm. "People have to want to be a part of it. They can't be forced."

It figured, Keith thought resentfully as Pidge walked away from them. Just when he was starting to like and trust these people, to get used to their dynamic, to think of them as a group to which he belonged, Pidge wanted to split it up. Even out of the foster system, and even after Shiro's miraculous return, it seemed as though everyone left at some point.

Keith was just wondering what other unexpected things could happen, how worse things could get, when everything on Arus turned upside down. Before they knew what was happening, the Castle had been infiltrated, a bomb had gone off, Lance had been critically injured, the crystal that powered the Castle had been destroyed, and the Arusian village was under direct attack. The Alteans and paladins had overstayed their welcome on Arus, and now both the guests and their hosts were paying for it.

Pidge's plan to leave turned out to be advantageous, as she had left the bay door open before the Castle lost power. She quickly offered her shuttle to Coran and Lance so they could get another crystal. Keith opted to go to the Arusian village, and Allura chose to go with him. Only Shiro remained to watch over Lance and guard the Castle's entrance. Keith did not like leaving him behind, but with so many crises happening at once, they did not have much of a choice.

The entire village was engulfed in flames when Keith and Allura arrived. It was the biggest fire Keith had ever seen, and he had built plenty of campfires and bonfires in his youth. He had always kind of liked playing with fire, dangerous though it was. He was not afraid of it, and so he was not afraid to run into the ruined village for a closer look at the attackers. But the only figures he saw were Galra sentries, and they were eerily immobile, being consumed by the flames that they ostensibly had lit.

With a renewed, almost sickening sense of dread, Keith realized they had been set up. The attack on the village, the destruction of all these people's homes, had merely been a distraction to split up the paladins—divide and conquer.

When Keith got back to Allura they ran as fast as they could to the castle, but just as they closed in, the particle barrier materialized, encasing it in a purple sphere. None of the paladins could go in or out. Those inside were trapped with whoever was taking over and starting up the Castle, and those outside would be trapped on Arus with no way of leaving.

Suddenly Pidge's hushed voice sounded through the comm units in Keith's helmet and Allura's earrings. Pidge informed them that she was still in the castle, and that Sendak had taken over and captured Lance and Shiro. Keith was angry and ashamed to hear that Shiro was once again a prisoner of the Galra. Shiro had not fully recovered from the trauma of that first imprisonment, which they had just recently learned included some time in the Galra's gladiatorial arenas; and now he was in danger of going through similar captivity, or worse.

Allura thought quickly and told Pidge how to prevent the launch sequence and delay Sendak's departure. It worked, as the Castle was not able to take off, but now Pidge needed to find a way to stop Sendak, or to bring down the particle barrier so Keith and Allura could help her. It would take a lot of stealth and sabotage, and probably several hours to accomplish.

Keith hated feeling so helpless, knowing that Shiro and Lance were captives and Pidge was in imminent danger. It was different from his frustration when Shiro was missing in space; then the problem had been the uncertainty, the lack of knowledge about the true nature of the situation. Now, Keith knew exactly what kind of danger his teammates were in, and he could not do a thing about it, except wait. The whole time, he was torn between standing ready to invade their own home, and helping the Arusians save theirs.

Allura, to her credit, was not annoying when anxious. Even though it took hours, she stayed focused and ready to direct Pidge over the comms. When they lost contact and could not be certain of Pidge's safety or success, Allura had the idea to get her Altean mice friends to help. Keith did not quite understand their telepathic connection, but he was glad for it when the mice were able to shut down the particle barrier. He and Allura ran inside, and she led the way to the room with the crystal. "If you distract Sendak and get him in the right place, I can access the computer and trap him."

When they reached the room's threshold, the first thing they saw was Sendak holding Pidge in a giant mechanical hand, her legs dangling and her face scrunched up in anguish. The second was Shiro and Lance semi-conscious on the ground.

Keith drew his bayard and conjured his sword, but he could see Sendak was going to use Pidge as leverage. "Stand back," the Galra commander said; but then something hit him from behind, causing him to drop Pidge. Lance, though still battered from the explosion, had awoken enough to conjure his rifle bayard and grin smugly at his target. Shiro was handcuffed and looked in pretty bad shape too, though more alert than Lance, who fainted, having spent his strength making that shot.

Shiro somehow got to his feet and threw himself at Sendak, which might have been the bravest thing Keith had seen him do, because he had no way to fight. He could only help his teammates distract and disorient their opponent. They actually worked well together, and Keith managed to kick him into the right spot so that when Allura raised the small particle barrier Sendak was trapped inside. It was the paladins' first close-range fight, and they won.

Pidge seemed to be okay, as she was strong enough to help Shiro, who looked almost as dirty and bruised as Lance. Keith turned his attention to Lance, helping him up. "Are you okay?"

Lance did not answer the question directly. He was obviously tired, but he also seemed pleased. "We did it," he said in amazement. His eyes flickered to Keith's. "We are a good team."

Keith returned his smile, feeling a mixture of pride and something that might have been endearment. He helped carry Lance to the infirmary and got him into a healing suit before putting him in a cryo-pod. They didn't like using the castle's facilities while they were still being powered by a Galra crystal, but Coran and Hunk were not back yet with a new one, and they did not want to wait any longer to begin healing Lance's injuries.

Once he was taken care of, Allura, Keith, and Shiro turned to Pidge. The last time they had talked under calm circumstances, she had been determined to leave; her plan had only halted when Lance was hurt and her shuttle was needed to help them. Now that Lance was taken care of and the Castle was fully functional, they wondered—maybe feared—whether she would resume her original plan.

"Dad used to tell me how close he was with his crew members. They were like family. Now I understand what he was talking about." It was clear from Pidge's tone and the way she looked off to the side that she missed him. But the nostalgia left her voice when she looked back up at them and said, "I'm staying with you guys. Let's stop Zarkon for _all_ our families."

Keith smiled, glad to hear it. "Good to have you back on the team," he said truthfully. Pidge had really proven her value as a friend and ally. They did not just need someone to pilot the Green Lion; they needed Pidge, in particular, for all she was and all she could do.

Coran and Hunk soon returned with a non-Galra crystal and told a wild-sounding story about the planet where they had found it. While they waited for Lance to finish healing, Keith got everyone else to help the Arusian village. They could not stay long enough to repair all the damage from Sendak's sentries, but they could not leave them without any help. Coran dug into the castle's ample stocks of tools and other supplies, which they distributed to the villagers. In this way they were able to make some reparations and left the Arusians on good terms, assured of its continued membership in what Allura called the Voltron Alliance.

Once Lance was awake and had been fed and debriefed, Hunk insisted that the Balmera be their first destination, and saving its people their next mission (or first "official" mission, if their other recent adventures counted as unofficial ones).

Keith was rather impressed by this change in attitude. Before Sendak's attack on the castle, Hunk had anxiously expressed the desire to go back to Earth; but now he seemed to have genuine conviction. "This is what being a paladin of Voltron is about. It's time to man up!"

The briefest of pauses followed this, and for a moment Keith wondered if Pidge was going to use it as an opening to reveal what he suspected. But Shiro spoke first, urging them all to prepare for the mission. Everyone was starting to leave when Pidge called their attention back.

The look on Lance's face when Pidge confessed her female identity was priceless. In contrast, no one else was really surprised. After his initial suspicions, Keith had gotten used to the idea that Pidge might be a girl, and now that it was confirmed to be true, it did not faze him. All things considered, Pidge being a girl was less remarkable than other qualities she had, like being so smart despite her young age, and strong despite her small size.

"Owning who you are is going to help you be a better paladin," Shiro said.

In later weeks and months, Keith wondered if that applied to all of them.


	15. A Bonding Moment

_Published April 22, 2017_

 _Set between S1E5 "Tears of the Balmera" and S2E3 "Shiro's Escape."_

* * *

"A Bonding Moment"

As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend. ~ Proverbs 27:17, New Living Translation

* * *

Keith found the training deck already in use: Pidge was combating the gladiator robot with her bayard. She noticed Keith's entrance but did not take her focus off of the fight.

"Can I go after you?" he called out.

"Sure," Pidge grunted as she parried an attack. "Give me five minutes."

Keith stretched on the sideline and watched while he waited for his turn. He figured one of them would beat the other shortly; but the fight drew on for several minutes.

It seemed that Pidge was good at evading but needed to work on her offense. Having such a small weapon put her at something of a disadvantage: though her spade could shock people into immobility or unconsciousness, it had to make contact with her opponent, which was difficult if said opponent was good at fending off her jabs. Her arms were so short that coming at the gladiator from the front put her in danger of being struck or simply held back by its longer arms. Her closest attempts came by circling around it and aiming from the back—but it always swiveled around to meet her. Pidge's grunts became more dismayed and frustrated. Keith fought the instinct to step in and help her. He held himself back with the knowledge that it was not a real fight, and that Pidge would not want help when she was trying on her own.

Finally Pidge used a different tactic: she shot out her bayard's grappling hook and tried to catch the gladiator's staff in it. She then started to circle around it, thinking to either disarm it or trip it up in the rope; but the gladiator lifted its staff over its head and jerked it in the opposite direction, pulling on the rope and causing Pidge to trip and fall on the floor. It then twirled its staff, freeing it from the grappling hook, and pointed the weapon's end at Pidge's head, indicating that she was defeated.

Pidge huffed. "End training sequence." The gladiator relaxed its posture and shut down, allowing Pidge to get to her feet. "Simulation failed," she grumped, echoing the stiff recorded voice of the Galaxy Garrison flight simulator. The realism of her imitation made Keith suspect she had heard it many times.

"I thought you didn't like training," he said as Pidge came over and opened a water bag.

"I don't," she said, poking a straw into the drink. "But I figured, if I'm going to be part of this team, I should get better at combat."

"You did well enough against Haxus and Sendak."

"Rover helped me beat Haxus, and we all pitched in to beat Sendak."

"Well, you reprogrammed Rover, didn't you? So that was still your doing."

"True," Pidge conceded, "but I couldn't do much against Sendak's giant robot arm. He picked me up like a flimsy action figure. I need to be able to stand my ground against different opponents. And I know we're going to be working as a team and helping each other out, but … I want to be able to hold my own if I have to."

"That's fair." Keith took off his jacket, indicating that he was ready for his turn. But instead of taking up his bayard, he drew his knife from the sheath on his belt. "First let's see how your bayard does against something its own size."

Pidge looked at the knife dubiously. "I don't think the Galra use weapons that small."

"Maybe not, but if you aim too high too soon, you'll set yourself up for failure. You need to work your way up to that point."

"You sound like Shiro," Pidge remarked.

That elicited a rare smile from Keith, who took it as a compliment. "He was the one who taught me to think that way."

Maybe hearing of Shiro's influence on him convinced her. She took up her bayard once more and followed him to the center of the training deck.

The two weapons were shaped differently, but the basic principles of thrusting and blocking carried over. Keith did not go easy on her, but he did not pummel her the way the gladiator had. And unlike the robot, he gave verbal feedback, pointing out her mistakes and good moves, and showed emotion, shifting between smugness when he out-maneuvered her, surprise when she went against his expectations, and approval when she out-maneuvered him.

After about twenty minutes they called it quits, since Keith still needed to train with his sword and Pidge had research to do. But they stayed on the deck to take a water break.

"How did you learn to fight so well?" Pidge asked curiously. "The way you took out those med-techs to save Shiro—and how you use your bayard as a sword—that's not the kind of thing the Garrison teaches in self-defense."

Keith was silent for a moment before he answered. "When I was in foster care, I sometimes got to go to summer camps and YMCA classes for free. I chose fencing a couple times, and martial arts whenever it was offered. I thought it'd help me stand up to bullies."

Pidge's surprise was quite mild. She had not known that Keith was an orphan. Yet she did not ask all the questions people usually asked— _How old were you when your parents died? How long were you in the system?_

Instead, the question she asked was one that could be addressed to anyone: "Did you know a lot of bullies?"

Keith shrugged. "You find them in pretty much any situation with a lot of kids kept together." He had encountered a fair share, in schools, group homes, camps, even some of his foster families.

"Did the Garrison have that kind of power structure? I mean, in the student body—the only bullies I saw there were Iverson and his cronies."

"There were some cocky upperclassmen while I was there. They had more bark than bite." Keith looked at her curiously. "You really never ran into any bullies?" He would have thought that someone as small and geeky as Pidge would be targeted as either easy prey or an object of envy.

"I was there for less than a year, and I didn't really mingle with people outside of class. I only enrolled so I could get the information I needed to find my dad and brother." Pidge paused while they both sipped from their water pouches. Then, possibly to deflect the conversation from the topic of her own family, she said, "I'm glad we don't have bullies in this team."

Keith raised his eyebrows at her. "Are you forgetting our first day of training?"

"Well—at least Allura meant well. She wasn't mean to us just for the fun of it."

"Bullying isn't just done for fun."

"Why else would anyone be mean to someone?"

"Sometimes it's just … flaws in their personality. Or something to do with how they grew up. Some kids do it to release their anger about other things in their lives. And some do it because they're afraid and want to feel like they're stronger or more powerful." He felt like a hypocrite, trying to justify these things that he knew were wrong.

The way he talked about it, with earnestness and almost uncharacteristic insight, piqued Pidge's curiosity. "How do you know?"

Keith wished he had not said anything. She looked at him so unsuspectingly, and they were finally getting along. But he did not want her to imagine something worse than the truth, so he answered reluctantly, "Because … sometimes I thought the best way to avoid being bullied was to be the one bullying people."

"Oh." To her credit, Pidge's expression did not change much. She was thoughtful, considering and wondering, the way she often was when receiving new intelligence. "Is that why you got kicked out of the Garrison?"

"Not exactly. When Shiro went missing, I didn't feel motivated to do the work. And when they blamed the Kerberos mission failure on him …" Keith could feel the old anger and frustration, which even being reunited with Shiro could not erase. He clenched his fists in his lap, letting the emotion pass over him. "I couldn't stand sucking up to them."

Pidge nodded, understanding. "I know what you mean. I almost blew my cover because I couldn't keep my mouth shut when they badmouthed my family."

Keith had been meaning to ask for details about that. "Why did you hide the fact that you were related?"

"Oh—I snuck into their offices to find out what happened on Kerberos that they weren't telling us. Iverson caught me and banned me from the school."

"Wow."

"Yeah." Pidge smiled, with a mischievous excitement in her eyes. "If we ever bring Voltron to Earth, I can't wait to see his face when he finds out I was under his nose the whole time. It'll be even better if I've found my family by then."

Keith smiled too, imagining Iverson's reaction to finding out who the "defenders of the universe" were: the girl he had banned, the punk he had expelled, the engineer with motion sickness, the cargo pilot who had barely made it into his class, and the pilot he had scapegoated and presumed dead. All things considered, they were a perfect case study of underdogs.

Pidge stood and picked up her bayard and their emptied water bags. "Thanks for the training session."

"No problem." Keith got up and held his bayard so it turned into his sword, and started walking to the center of the training deck.

"Keith?" He paused to look at her. She seemed a little bashful, trying to smile, but faltering under nervousness. "I'm glad you're on this team." He had said something to that affect to her, when she decided to stay with them.

Her frankness caught him off guard. "Uh, thanks. … I'm glad you're on it, too." His smile was tentative, but it made hers widen with happiness. He smiled with something like affection as she left the deck.

Throughout his life, Keith had been shunted from one new environment to another. Since he had to get to know a new set of people each time, Keith had always been sensitive to moments of fun, cooperation, or mutuality. He called them "bonding moments." Most of them were little interactions—kind gestures, conversations, but they were what make him feel confident in the strength of a relationship. It was hard to establish good one-on-one relationships within in a group of people, so even objectively short or insignificant moments felt like they mattered.

He hoped he would have time and space for more moments like these.


End file.
